Revelations of Faith
by LJlashlarue
Summary: "There in the window, naked but for boots, was Faith, and the look of desire on her face caused a sudden increase of heat in both Hermione and Fleur." Faith and the other slayers find both new friends and new enemies. Various pairings, some violence.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: These characters belong to J. K. Rowling and Joss Whedon, I merely introduced them to each other.

This story has a lot more 'adult' themes and moments than my 'Dawning of Faith' series. (I am working on a sequel, life has interfered) This story was written for a very ill friend who requested her OT3 and plenty of action among them, so if Femmeslash is not your thing, skip this, it gets intimate in spots.

"Have a Little…"

"Hermione love, I think zat we should Apparate out of here," said Fleur anxiously.

"We'll be fine, one vampire is no match for us, and if this spell works, the vampire will no longer be able to feed on humans. They can be provided with animal blood from processing plants. Safer for everyone!"

"How very kind of you," hissed a soft voice from behind Fleur as two hands seized her arms in a grip of steel, "but where's the fun in that?"

Hermione had no more than thought of using her wand when there was a sudden blur of motion behind the vampire, and he dissolved in a puff of dust. She had the brief impression of a savage grin below two dark eyes set in a pale face before she and Fleur were catapulted into a pile of trash bags.

"I swear, you Frog vamps are just as stupid as the ones back home," Fleur and Hermione heard above the sound of blows and a sharp cry of agony. They looked up from their nest of hefty bags to see the grin above a pair of hands reaching down and pulling them to their feet. "If you gals are gonna stake vamps, you're gonna need something sharper and stronger than those two twigs you were waving around."

The grin belonged to a woman, and both Fleur and Hermione gave her a slow and appraising look, because a glance would not do justice to her. She had shoulder-length dark hair, tumbled carelessly about, dark brown eyes that were heavily made up, and full, red, lips. She was wearing a white tank top that they might have taken for a coat of paint, if it were not for the fact that the black leather pants tucked into her heavy boots were even tighter. Had they seen this woman on the street, "slut" would have been the first thought to occur to them, but here in this alley with the memory of her strength and speed still fresh in their minds, they both felt their knees give a bit.

"So what are two hot chicks like you doing wandering around in a dark alley?" asked the woman.

"We were going to try out a new spell on a vampire," said Hermione numbly. Fleur hissed something at her.

"Oh, witches," replied the stranger, "still, it might be best to leave the vamps to the slayers, don't you think?"

"What ees a slayer?" asked Fleur.

"Me," answered the woman, "there are a fair few of us now, but there used to be only one. A witch I know changed the original magic so that any girl with the potential to be a slayer, would in fact become one. We kill vampires and assorted demons."

"Without magic?" queried Hermione. The woman disappeared from sight, and spoke again from several yards away, over by a large trash bin. She lifted the bin easily into the air.

"Slayers have a little magic of their own," she said, flashing that feral grin.

"Do slayers have names?" inquired Hermione.

"Ooohhh, a smart-ass! I like that in a chick. And I have a name, anyway; it's Faith."

"I am Hermione, and this is Fleur, pleased to meet you Faith."

"Likewise; it ain't every day I find two lookers like you wandering through the garbage." Fleur and Hermione looked at each other, a look that Faith saw, apparently. "You guys are dykes, aren't you? I swear, every witch I know is queer, what is it with you gals, anyway?" Fleur draped an arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"And why should we waste all zis beauty on some man, when we can have eet all to ourselves?" purred Fleur. After the briefest of moments, Faith laughed.

"Makes sense to me, sweetmeat; me, I'm flexible. Sexy is sexy, and when I get charged up I don't much care if it pees standing or sitting. Now let me walk you two to someplace safe, so I can finish my patrol and then take care of this little itch I seem to have."

"I could give you a potion for the itch," offered Hermione.

"Babycakes, it ain't that kind of itch," laughed Faith, "but I'm quite sure you and your little French bon-bon there could take care of it just fine. Let's go now; I've got vamps to dust before sunrise."

Much to their own surprise, Hermione and Fleur fell in step with the strange woman, although they each lagged behind on occasion. Faith stopped.

"Okay gals, I appreciate the discretion, but let's just stop under this streetlight and check each other out right in the open like big girls, okay?" Hermione and Fleur flushed, but they also stopped under the light. Faith raised her arms above her head and turned slowly around. "You like?" she asked. The two nodded. "Thanks, now you," Faith commanded. They complied, and while their sweaters were rather loose, their jeans fit snugly enough to draw a low whistle from the slayer. "Damn, and I thought California girls were hot, and Blondie here has a face that could melt, well, me." Fleur and Hermione watched in amazement as Faith rubbed softly at the leather covering her crotch. "Well ladies, I'll see you around the alley, try not to get killed, would you?" Thus saying, Faith leaped to the roof of a nearby building and vanished into the night.

"Bit coarse," muttered Hermione.

"Oui, but she is as hot as zee Devils' sauna."

"Oh yes. I seem to have a little itch myself. Let's get home so you can help me with it."

"D'accord."

They were close enough to their flat that they decided not to risk Apparating in public, but rather walked swiftly home. Neither of them noticed the shadow that followed them across the roofs.

"I need to wash off this 'Eau de garbage' love," said Hermione as she began undressing, "join me?"

"I shall fix dinner, love, while you bathe, but I shall certainly join you later," Fleur answered her. Hermione headed to the bath while Fleur opened the refrigerator.

"Phheww!" exclaimed Fleur. "One could wish z'at Faith 'ad thrown us somewhere cleaner." She removed her sweater and jeans and carried them to the laundry.

"Damn," said Faith quietly, perched atop the building across the way, "little Blondie has got quite a rack."

Hermione strolled into the kitchen nude, toweling her hair. "Your turn love, what's left to do for dinner?"

"Just open zee wine and let it breathe, and set zee table, I am afraid it is only leftovers tonight," Fleur answered.

"Works for me, there's never anything bad to eat in this house," Hermione avowed.

"Indeed not," agreed Fleur with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Go and wash, lover, and I do hope that is not you I'm smelling."

"Non, z'at ees our landing zone. Faith is quite strong, n'est ce pas?"

"She sure is. And fast. Hell of a body, too," responded Hermione as she pictured the slayer.

"D'accord. I wonder if we shall ever see her again?"

"Who knows? Now hurry up, I'm hungry." Fleur kissed the tip of Hermione's nose and walked out of the room. Hermione watched her walk away. So did Faith.

"Holy Shit! I'm glad the vamps didn't get those two, what a waste that would have been," muttered Faith. "Not to mention that I could never shove a stake into chests like that." Her eyes hungrily followed Hermione around the kitchen/dining area, and her stomach rumbled. "Damn, I should have tried to get dinner out of those two." Hermione set the table, and as Faith watched she noticed a familiar tingle growing low in her belly. Something quite apart from her empty stomach. She shifted uneasily.

Fleur returned to the dining area wearing a robe, much to Faith's disappointment, and Hermione donned one as well. With the visual stimulus muffled, Faith's stomach reasserted itself. She blew a kiss to Hermione and Fleur, and left to find some dinner of her own.

Faith had no patron here in France, and usually preferred to work independently of the Slayer's Council; and so the life of a solitary slayer was exacting its usual penalties of no income or real chance of employment. Not if she ever wanted to sleep. She headed for the nearby clubs, confident that someone there, man or woman, would feed her in hopes of bedding her. "Who knows," she mused, "they might get lucky, the pump is already primed." She entered the first place she saw that advertised food as well as booze, and insinuated herself into the crowd of dancers. Soon enough she found herself facing a man who was clearly interested in her. He wasn't a bad dancer either. The music stopped as the band sought refreshment.

"Je m'apple Francois," said the man by way of introduction.

"I'm Faith, and that's all the francais that I parlay. Do you speak English?"

"A leetle, yes."

"That's great; we won't have to waste time talking, then. Is the food any good here?"

"Pas mal, I mean, not bad. Would you allow me zee honor of buying you dinner?"

"You bet, Frenchy. I may learn to like this town yet," Faith gave him a dazzling smile and hooked her arm through his. They sat down at a table in a dark corner removed from the crowd.

"What breengs you to France, Faith?" asked Francois as he summoned a waitress.

"I thought I'd see what the hunting was like over here," she answered.

"I'm afraid there is not much game in zee city," he replied hesitantly.

"I don't know," purred Faith, "I seem to be doing pretty well so far…" Francois smiled broadly.

"May I order for you?" he asked.

"Please do, another reason I came to France was for new experiences."

Francois cleared his throat, said a rapid and silent prayer of thanks, and ordered a rather extravagant meal, given the limitations of the place. The food arrived promptly, and proved to be quite good, especially because Faith was smart enough not to ask what anything was. The snails were obvious, but they were good anyway. Faith relaxed, enjoying the feel of a full belly, and finally took the time to appraise her companion as he paid for the meal from a thick roll of bills.

"Not bad at all," she thought, "he's not even wearing a gold chain."

"Would you like to dance?" he asked her.

"To tell you the truth, I'm kind of sleepy now that I've eaten. I think I'll make an early night of it."

"Very well, may I escort you home? Zee streets are not safe at night for a woman alone." What the hell, thought Faith.

"Sure. Thank you."

Many sets of eyes followed them as they left the club. So did 3 pairs of feet. They approached a section of the street where the streetlight was broken, and no sooner had they entered the shadows than three men holding knives confronted them. One of the men spoke rapidly in French.

"Be steel Faith, zey say zey won't 'urt us eef I geeve zem my money," Francois told her in a choked voice. Faith looked at him, he was trembling slightly and sweat was already beading on his forehead.

"How do you say 'fuck you', in French?" she asked him. He looked at her like she had grown an extra head. "Never mind, this will do,"

said Faith, and she grinned at their assailants and displayed the middle finger of each hand. They did seem to get the gist of it, and one of them lunged at her.

It was pitiful, really. Faith grabbed him by the wrist of the arm holding the knife, whipped him into the air and proceeded to use him as a club to beat the others senseless. She turned to her companion with a smile.

"See, hunting's pretty good, just bagged three assholes."

Francois turned and fled.

"Pussy!" yelled Faith. Not only did that remind her of her own thoroughly aroused part of that name, but of two other prime examples that she had recently seen. "Maybe they're still awake," she mused. She leapt the pile of unconscious would-be thieves and ran lightly into the night.

"Yeeessssssssssss," hissed Hermione as Fleur's fingers lightly trailed down the plain of her belly. "Please baby, please, don't tease me tonight. I want you too badly."

"Are you sure eet ees me you want, and not zee dark-eyed slayer, ma petite?"

"Like you don't want her, you vicious tease. Now tend to business or I'll go out and find her!"

"Anyzeeng for you, 'ermione," purred the smiling Fleur, and she softly ran her tongue along Hermione's outer lips. Hermione shuddered.

"Teasing, Frog, WENCH!" cried Hermione, and she grabbed Fleur's head and pulled her firmly into her throbbing heat.

"Fuck. Me." whispered Faith in honest awe as she watched from a neighboring rooftop. Her hands moved of their own accord, one of them sliding beneath the tank top and peeling the sports bra up over her breasts, the other attacking the laces that secured her pants.

"Yes, yes, yes, Yes YES!" screamed Hermione as she ground her sodden pussy against Fleurs' face, going rigid as Fleur seized her ass and thrust her tongue into Hermione.

Across the narrow alley, Faith twisted and pulled a rock-hard nipple as the middle finger of the other hand slid into her slit, its passage eased by the hot, slick, fluid seeping from within her. She watched Fleur raise that perfect face from Hermione's pussy, the perfect skin shining wet. She watched Fleur lick her lips, and then slowly push three fingers into Hermione as her own finger curled inside of herself. Fleur began to rhythmically pump her fingers into Hermione as she writhed on the bed, throwing her legs wide and clenching fistfuls of sheet. "Fuck-me… fuck-me… fuck-me…" chanted Faith as she unconsciously followed Fleurs' rhythm. She squeezed her breast hard as she watched, and her legs shook, she heard some stitching in her pants give, and she bit her lower lip as she whimpered into the dark night.

"OH GOD FLEUR! YESSSS!" Hermione howled as her legs drummed on the mattress and she felt hot fluid gush from deep inside her. Fleur raised her hand to her face and licked the glistening stuff that coated it, then extended the hand to Hermione, who eagerly drew Fleur's fingers into her mouth.

Faith jammed two more fingers inside herself, and her lip slipped from between her teeth as her head flew back, the dark hair catching what little moonlight there was, as her palm fiercely pounded her clit.

"What was zat noise?" asked Fleur, her cheek resting on Hermione's thigh as she gently rubbed her lovers' twitching lips.

"Werewolf," said a very languid Hermione.

Faith licked her own fingers clean as she watched Fleur crawl up alongside Hermione and nestle into her neck. "Come on Hermione," whispered Faith, "don't leave your girl hanging like that." Fleur's hands gently caressed Hermione, and soon she stirred and kissed Fleur deeply.

"You taste like me," Hermione said.

"Indeed. I am utterly delicious," stated Fleur.

"I'll be the judge of that," said Hermione briskly, and she briefly pulled Fleurs' lower lip with her teeth before dragging her tongue down the center of Fleur's body as she forced Fleurs' legs apart and up. Hermione wasted no time, and plunged her tongue as far into Fleur as she could get it. Fleur pulled at her own nipples and arched her back in approval.

Faith watched, her chest heaving as she fought for breath. "These bitches are going to kill me," she said in quiet amaze. Faintly, she heard Fleur cry out as her hands plunged into the mass of Hermione's hair. "I am going to die on a rooftop in France with my hand down my pants. Buffy will get a big kick out of this shit."

"'ermione my lamb, you have killed me. I am dead," moaned Fleur.

"Not yet dead enough, lover, I am going to kill you at least twice more tonight."

"Zank you, and remind me to zank zee slayer for stirring you up so, n'est ce pas?"

"Right this minute, I wish she were here so we could both thank her," sighed Hermione.

"D'accord. Please open zee window before you kill me again, oh flood of my loins," asked Fleur.

Faith took an unconscious step back as a nude Hermione stepped to the window and thrust it wide; Faith could plainly see the gleam of sweat on her breasts. "I can't stand this, I just can't stand this," muttered Faith. "One short jump and I'll land in the middle of more prime nookie than I've ever seen." Hermione returned to Fleur, and kissed her way from Fleur's toes to her groin. When she got there she twisted around, and lowered her twat to Fleur's waiting mouth.

"That's it," spat Faith as she peeled off her tank top and bra in one motion. "That is fucking IT!" She kicked off her boots and peeled off the leather pants, panties and all. She then put the boots back on, ran for the edge of the roof, and launched herself into the air.

The 'thud' on the window ledge caused both Fleur and Hermione to extract their faces from each other's quims and snap their gazes to the window. They both died a little.

There in the window, naked but for boots, her body shining with sweat that shone in the candlelight, was Faith. Her breasts were not large, but beautiful, the muscles of her body sang with strength and grace, and the look of desire on her face caused a sudden increase of heat in both Hermione and Fleur.

"The window was open and I thought I'd drop by," said Faith. "That, and I've been horny as hell since I saw you two, and watching you make love hasn't exactly calmed me down."

"And why should we welcome this intrusion on our intimacy?" asked Hermione archly. Faith grinned, and held her arms wide.

"Have a little Faith!"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: These characters belong to J. K. Rowling and Joss Whedon, I merely introduced them to each other.

This story has a lot more 'adult' themes and moments than my 'Dawning of Faith' series. This story was written for a very ill friend who requested her OT3 and plenty of intimate action among them, so if Femmeslash is not your thing, skip this, it gets intimate in spots, like this one.

"**A Peace of Faith"**

"_And why should we welcome this intrusion on our intimacy?" asked Hermione archly. Faith grinned, and held her arms wide._

"_Have a little Faith!"_

"Oh," said Fleur softly, "indeed we shall…"

Faith knew a moment of wonder as her feet floated free of the window ledge and an instant of icy fear as the look on Fleur and Hermione's faces changed to one that Faith knew well. The look of the hunter. Fleur and Hermione stood as Faith drew near, and Faith could see the wand that Fleur held. Hermione took Faith's outstretched hand and guided her as she was lowered spread-eagle onto the bed. Faith could not move, though she exerted her Slayer strength to the limit, Hermione and Fleur watched in wonder the play of muscles under Faith's glistening skin. Just as Faith was about to ask just what the hell was going on, Fleur and Hermione lay down on either side of her and began to wish kisses on her temples, fairy-wing lips fluttering across to her eyes before she felt warm breath on her ears, and soft nibbles, and the gentle flicks of heated tongues.

"Shouldn't I rinse off a-" Faith's question was cut off by Fleur's lips, and Faith tasted peaches, and salt, and the heady taste of a woman's passion. She felt a bright spot of fire as Hermione's teeth nipped her earlobe, and she tried to shudder as Hermione's tongue trailed down her neck while Fleur's' flickered lightly over her lips. She drew in a sharp breath as the two women loving her each fastened their teeth at the junction of her neck and shoulders before kissing and licking the small hurt away.

For Fleur and Hermione, Faith was a wondrous creature, she smelled of leather and sweat, of citrus and woman, and their hands explored the heated flesh beneath them marveling at the strength that surged under the soft, smooth skin. Faith's eyes grew wide as the fairy-wings flitted to her nipples, brushing them softly before they were drawn into hot softness and two tongues teased them erect. Faith could no longer see them by looking down, and she felt one set of lips leave her breast and follow the path of fingernails across her ribs. Soft, insistent fingers kept that breast from getting lonely.

Fleur suckled Faith while she rolled the other nipple between her fingers, her own desire rising at the feel and taste of the woman beneath her. Faith felt warm breath on her vulva, and strained for contact, still unable to move. Her body hummed as she felt Hermione draw her labia into her mouth, softly chewing the rubbery flesh. A surge of heat flashed through her as she felt the fairy-wings graze her clit briefly, just before a wide-opened mouth covered her sex and a hot tongue pressed against her crevice.

Faith's breasts were released and Fleur's beautiful face filled her vision. "Tonight Slayer," whispered Fleur huskily, "you die." Faith didn't doubt it for a second as she felt her clit being sucked between Hermione's lips. Faith's breathing grew ragged as Hermione devoured her; she felt herself go liquid and opened her mouth to scream, only to find it suddenly filled with Fleur's tongue. Strain as she would, she could not move as the orgasm raced through her body, and the last thing she saw as she drifted off was Fleur's face smiling gently down on her.

"Fleur my love, her legs, feel her legs." Fleur did, and a moan drifted from her lips. Faith's legs were sculpture, flowing lines and valleys walled in with muscle, steel cables covered by a wish, soft as a kitten's belly and hard as the granite mountains. Hermione felt a new fire in her belly, and the bedroom door swung open to accommodate the passage of a chair from the dining table.

Faith stirred, and finding that she could now move she stretched like a leopard beneath the stares of her new lovers. "Mmmmmmm, you two really know how to kill a gal," she admitted. The sated smile on her face grew into a grin of anticipation as she saw the fire in Hermione's eyes.

"Sit here," commanded Hermione, pointing at the chair. Faith's natural response to any command was derision, but just now she wasn't about to argue with either woman. She sat. Hermione moved to straddle Faith's left thigh, and lowered herself onto it. Faith felt the heat on her skin as Hermione settled down. Hermione interlocked her fingers behind Faith's neck, and pulled her into a kiss that made Faith want to weep when it stopped. "Look into my eyes," Hermione ordered. Again Faith complied, and found herself falling into chocolate pools of infinite depth, and in those depths she could see herself sitting naked in the chair.

Hermione began grinding herself against Faith's thigh, and Faith realized with a shock that not only could she feel Hermione's pussy rubbing on her leg, she could feel what Hermione was feeling as well. The dual sensations made her dizzy, and she might have fallen if not for Hermione's hands behind her neck, and the gravity of those dark eyes.

All that Faith could see was Hermione's face; the look on it was hard, fierce. There was no sound in the room but for the wet sound of flesh on flesh. Faith felt the fire rising higher inside her; or was it in Hermione? Steadily Hermione humped Faith's thigh, and Faith could feel her own muscles beneath the slick heat of the witch riding her, she could feel the rubbery give beneath the tender woman bits as if it were her own cunt riding her leg. Hermione began to pant, her nostrils flaring as breath was forced from them, and finally there was another sound in the room, a soft, puffing, "fuh" sound as Hermione exhaled.

Deeper into the pools fell Faith, the steady "fuh, fuh, fuh" of Hermione's breath the sound of a locomotive laboring up a long hill. The rhythm of her hips never faltered as Hermione bore down on Faith's leg. "Fuh, fuh, fuh.." the sound of an engine of unending passion as Faith drowned in Hermione's eyes. "Fuh," came the sound as Faith felt teeth grazing her nipple, "fuh", came the sound as she felt Fleur's fingers slip inside her.

"Fuh,fuh,fuh,fuh," the train labored harder, and at the edge of her hearing Faith could hear another, softer, wetter sound that seemed to be in time with the thrusting of the fingers inside her. Faith tensed the muscles of her thigh, and was rewarded by a flash of fire deep in the pool in which she drowned, "fuh, fuh, Fuh, Fuh, Fuh," came the explosions of breath. Faith no longer knew where she stopped and Hermione began, it was all raw need and desire, she could no longer tell if it was Hermione's eyes she gazed into or her own, whether it was her breath or Hermione's that she heard.

"FuhFuhFuh, FUH – FUH – FU-!" Faith felt a hot cascade over her thigh, and was once again looking at Hermione, who had a look of pristine agony on her face as she slid bonelessly to the floor beside the chair.

Faith had little time to regret the loss as Fleur moved in between her legs and vigorously applied her tongue to Faith's swollen clit. She struggled to focus on the silver-blonde head between her thighs as the fingers curled within her and massaged that rough patch on her floor. Her legs tensed up, only to relax when Fleur withdrew both head and hand, and smiled silently up at her.

Fleur delicately slipped one of her fingers into her mouth, her eyes closing as she drew it in between her lips. Faith swallowed. Fleur's eyes opened again, and Faith was helpless in their gaze as she felt Fleur's hand in the wetness on her thigh. This time Fleur moaned as she tasted her fingers, and before Faith could speak, Fleur offered the shining fingers to her. As Faith sucked eagerly at Fleur's fingers, she felt Fleur enter her yet again, re-establishing a slow rhythm. Fleur withdrew her hand from Faith's reach, and while still in the power of the sparkling grey eyes she felt a slim finger press slowly into her bottom. Faith arched her back and squeezed the sides of the chair seat as she felt the fingers slipping in and out of her, filling all of her down there, separated only by a thin wall of flesh.

Fleur felt the beginning of powerful spasms inside the Slayer, and she increased her efforts, thrusting harder and faster as Faith strained beneath her. She felt Faith's legs begin to tremble, and without slowing her movements she lowered her face and sucked hard on Faith's clitoris, feeling herself lifted as the marvelous body beneath her thrummed like a bowstring. A sound that Fleur had heard before came from Faith's throat, and Fleur knew a time of wonder when her fingers were clutched in a grip of molten steel. Faith relaxed in the chair, and stroked Fleur's hair as it lay draped over her leg.

Faith shifted in the chair, and Fleur moved to allow her to rise, squatting down, Faith lifted Hermione gently and lay her down oh the bed. She did the same for Fleur, who smiled and held her hand out to the Slayer. Faith kissed the fingers and settled onto the bed by her new friends and lovers.

Fleur and Hermione awoke as the light of the dawn kissed their eyes. Faith was standing uncertainly by the window. "I guess I should shove off, can you lend me something to wear so I can go get my clothes?"

"You mizunderstand us, Slayer," said Fleur softly. "You are of course free to go, but why would you want to?"

"Surely you won't take our Faith from us?" asked Hermione.

"You both want me to stay?" The surprise was plain on her face.

"But of course, you silly girl. We do not give of ourselves lightly, we 'ave much more to learn from each uzzer."

"And plenty of time in which to do it," added Hermione, "unless you're tired of us, of course."

Faith stared, and as tears started in those near-black eyes, she committed the bravest act in a life soaked in peril. She opened her heart, and dared to love. Trembling, she crossed the room, and surrendered to tenderness and caring.

"Have no fear, ma petite," whispered Fleur as she stroked the dark hair, "with us your 'eart is safe."

For this time, Faith was at peace.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling and Joss Whedon

Summary: Faith is injured, Hermione and Fleur go to the other Slayers for help

"**Keeping Faith"**

It had been months since Faith had turned her back on the window and allowed herself to be loved. Even so, she often found herself wondering where she was going to go when she needed to sleep, who to hustle for her next meal. Then she would remember, and then she would know real fear.

She could not believe that she was loved, could not grasp it, could find no slot in her mind that the concept fit. Want? Yes. Fear? Indeed. Respect? Perhaps, out of fear. But love? Love _her_? Why?

Sometimes she would not return to the flat for several days, but she always did eventually, and Fleur and Hermione always welcomed her with joy, never challenging her absence or questioning her return. She would appear in the window, and Fleur and Hermione would awaken to greet her, or beckon her to join their lovemaking, or dining, or whatever it was that they were doing. Slowly, she began to not be so surprised when that happened, but she never expected it.

Then came the time she nearly wasn't able to make the leap to the window, when she clung desperately to the sill as the life poured from the wound in her side. She felt her fingers slip, and began to fall when her wrist was seized in powerful talons and she was yanked through the window.

"Somnious!" she heard, and the black descended.

"She's badly injured," Hermione said in a grim voice.

"Can you heal her?" asked Fleur desperately.

"I don't know, this wound looks mortal, and I only have one flask of blood replenishing potion in my bag. I believe her liver is badly damaged, she's bleeding so… Merlin!" Before Hermione's shocked gaze the flow of blood was slowing, looking closely, she could almost _see_ the flesh knitting. "Quickly Fleur, my bag!" Hermione raised the dark-haired head and trickled the potion between the scarlet lips.

"There is more to our Faith than I thought," said Fleur quietly.

"Indeed there is. But something has hurt her badly, and I take vigorous exception to that."

"D'accord. I shall see if I can find some of these uzzer Slayers she mentioned. It is time for us to become more involved in her life so that we can help her."

"I'm sure a general tracking spell based on her differences from the average muggle will work. Her strength alone sets her apart, and this rate of healing does as well. I think she'll make it, but it was close. I'll send Sappho for some more potions from the clinic. Be careful, beloved."

"Always. I'll take my mirror in case I need to contact you." Fleur passed her wand over the unconscious Faith, and a softly glowing ball of light appeared. "Seek," commanded Fleur, and the ball moved to the window.

"Here," said Hermione, and she cast a disillusionment spell on Fleur. "Good luck." Fleur kissed her softly and then mounted her broom and followed the ball of light into the night.

Hermione turned her attention to Faith's wound, and sweat beaded her brow as she worked earnestly on this part of her life.

Fleur followed the ball of light through the night skies of Paris until it hovered over a building, pulsed brightly, and then winked out. She landed, muttered "finite", and knocked on the door. It was answered by a scrawny, homely, young man wearing a smoking jacket and brandishing an unlit pipe. "May I help you?" the man asked.

"I need to see zee Slayers, quickly. Eet is important," answered Fleur.

"Slayers?" replied the small fellow in an affected voice. "There are no _Vampyr_ Slayers here, you have the wrong address."

"Stupefy!" replied Fleur, and she stepped over the unconscious form.

"I've always wanted to do that," said a cultured English voice, "but I'm afraid that I must ask you who you are and what you want." A tall man wearing glasses and holding a crossbow stepped into the room.

"I am Fleur Isabelle Delacour, and I am trying to find out what 'appened to Faith."

"Faith? You know Faith? How?" asked the man.

"That is not important, but Faith is. She said there were uzzer Slayers, and my spell tracked them here."

"Spell?" asked a petite redhead as she joined the Englishman. "Are you a witch?"

"Oui. Are you a Slayer?"

"No. I'm a witch too. What did you do to Andrew?"

"A simple stunning spell, can we discuss this later though? Faith is badly injured. I need to know if Slayers need special care or if standard healing spells work on zem," Fleur asked anxiously.

"They usually heal on their own," replied the man, "how do you know Faith?"

"She saved us from vampires, and she is our friend and lover. Do you know what injured her?"

"Faith doesn't check in with us very often," supplied another voice, "she likes to do things on her own."

"You must be Buffy, Faith described you very well. Can you tell me anyzing that will 'elp us heal her?"

"Faith is very hard to kill, even for a Slayer. What sort of injury does she have?" asked Buffy.

"A massive wound in her side; she was bleeding 'orribly when she came 'ome. Let me check with 'Ermione." Fleur pulled a mirror from her pocket and spoke into it. " 'Ermione, 'ow is she? I have found zee Slayers." The redhead came and looked over Fleur's shoulder and into the mirror, instead of her reflection, she saw a very anxious-looking brunette.

"She's asleep now. Fleur, what did this to her? Do they know?"

"Can she describe the wound?" asked the man.

"Describe the wound to zis man, 'Ermione. 'Ere, just speak normally to 'er in zis mirror, M'sieu…"

"Giles, just Giles will do Ms. Delacour. Now then, is the wound clean or jagged, Miss…"

"Hermione. It was very ragged, more of a tear than a cut, actually. It seems to be healing amazingly fast, but I'm afraid there may be a toxin in the wound."

"Is there any discoloration or discharge?"

"There is no discharge, but there are some greenish streaks radiating from the wound. I've tried several standard antidotes, but nothing seems to help that."

"We really need to know what kind of demon it was that injured her; did she say anything about it?" Giles asked Hermione.

"We sent her to sleep first thing; she's still out and will be for a while yet. The potions reinforce the sleeping spell. We should be able to backtrack her to where she was injured though, I'm sure she left a trail, she was bleeding badly," suggested Hermione.

"D'accord," replied Fleur, "I will be there momentarily. I must go now," she said to Giles, "I shall return when I know more."

"Take me with you," Willow spoke up, "I can help identify the demon."

"I'll come too," Buffy said, "just in case."

"Zank you," replied Fleur, and she grasped Willow's arm tightly, "take her uzzer arm, and hold tightly," she told Buffy. Before Giles could say a word there was a loud crack, and the women were gone.

"Extraordinary!" exclaimed Giles; he turned to where Andrew was crumpled by the door. "Kennedy," he called, "do drag Andrew into a corner somewhere we won't be tripping over him, please." The young woman complied, and shut the door.

"How long will he be out?" she asked.

"No idea, but every second is a blessing."

"What happened to him?"

"The most beautiful woman I have ever seen used a stunning spell on him. She seems to be an extraordinarily powerful witch as well; she transported Buffy and Willow from here in an instant."

"Why? What's going on?" enquired Kennedy.

"Faith has been injured, the French woman, Fleur is her name, came to get help for her. Said Faith was, "our friend and lover". I'm glad to see Faith making some friends of her own."

"So Willow was taken away by a beautiful and powerful witch, to help heal Faith, also a beautiful and powerful woman, who is this French witch's lover, is that about right?"

"Admirably put, yes, the woman caring for Faith is also quite attractive," acknowledged Giles.

"If anyone needs me I'll be getting drunk," said the Slayer as she walked away.

"Now what on earth has gotten into he- oh. Oh dear," muttered Giles. "I'm sure nothing will happen!" he called out.

" 'Ow is she?" asked Fleur as she appeared in her bedroom with Willow and Buffy.

"She's resting, and the wound is healing rapidly, but the green streaks are spreading, I haven't found anything in my books about this," answered Hermione.

"This is Buffy," said Fleur, indicating the tiny blonde with her, "she's a Slayer. This is Willow, she's a witch."

"Pleased to meet you, can you help Faith?"

"Do you know where she was tonight?" asked Buffy.

"No, but she came in through the window there, almost didn't make it, in fact," answered Hermione. Buffy went to the window and examined the ledge.

"Blood here, do you think she jumped from that roof?" the Slayer asked them.

"Yes, zat is how she usually comes in," confirmed Fleur.

"She can't use the door like regular people?" Buffy asked. Hermione and Fleur looked at each other and smiled.

"It's a matter of sentiment," Hermione answered. "Can you follow her trail?"

"It would be easier if Angel were here, he could follow the blood easily. I can take the route that Faith took, but I might miss sign in the dark. I can't smell the blood like a Vampire could."

"Then follow this," Hermione whipped out her wand and cast a spell that resulted in another softly glowing ball of light. "Here, take my mirror, when you find something, just talk into it."

"Willow, will you be alright here while I'm gone?" Willow looked at Fleur and Hermione, and at the sleeping Faith.

"I'm sure I will, I feel very comfortable here," Willow smiled.

"You're welcome to use one of our brooms if you want to follow Buffy," Fleur offered.

"You fly brooms? Really?" Willow asked brightly.

"Or we can Apparate her to you when you find something," Hermione added.

"That might be best," agreed Buffy, "I'll get back to you as soon as I can." She stood poised for a moment on the window ledge, and then leaped across to the other building.

" 'Ow many Slayers live in zat 'ouse, Willow?" inquired Fleur as she watched the small blonde figure vanish into the night.

"It varies, sometimes some of them are out on assignments, but there are usually a couple dozen of 'em around."

"Zut!" breathed Fleur.

"Tell me about it," said Willow, "I mean, Buffy's like my oldest friend here, so that's all right, but the rest of them... it's like a candy store, only with women."

"I'm sure," interjected Hermione, "but can we help Faith now?"

"Let me see the wound," said Willow as she approached the bed. Hermione folded back the bandage.

"She's healing even faster than normal for a Slayer," Willow exclaimed, "what did you do?"

"Standard healing spells, and some blood replenishing potions," answered Hermione.

"There are blood-replenishing potions?"

"Of course, where did you go to school?" asked Hermione.

"Sunnydale High and UC Sunnydale, in California," answered Willow.

"I thought I knew all of the witchcraft academies, but I've never heard of those," Hermione said.

"Witchcraft Academies? There are Witchcraft Academies?"

"Where did you learn your magic, Willow?"

"From books, and Giles helped, and a Wicca Coven over in England," answered Willow.

"We have a lot to talk about once we get Faith fixed up," promised Hermione, "what do you make of the wound?"

"Claws, it looks like. It must be a powerful demon to have been able to get to Faith like that; she's almost as strong as Buffy," Willow told them.

"Almost?" inquired Fleur.

"Well, I may be biased, Buffy is my best friend, and Faith wasn't always very nice. Those green streaks are worrisome, it looks like an infection, but the wound is closing nicely. She doesn't seem to have much fever either."

"The potion was effective on the fever, but not the green streaks. I've tried every standard anti-infective potion I know of, this looks different to me," Hermione told her.

"We'll know more when Buffy tracks down the demon," assured Willow.

Buffy was at that moment a few blocks away, examining a smear of blood on the edge of the roof she was on. She looked across the street at the nearest rooftop, it was a couple stories higher, and a very wide street away. "Holy crap! That was a hell of a jump. No way to do it in this direction, I'll have to go up inside that one."

She swung over the side of the building and skipped from balcony to balcony until low enough to drop to the street. There she spent a few moments looking in the shadows before entering the neighboring building and ascending the stairs to the roof. She met no one on the way up, and found the door to the roof ajar. Cautiously, she stepped out onto the roof. There was a dark shape lying in the shadow of the parapet, and she swiftly approached it. "Damn!" she exclaimed. The demon was huge, over 8 feet tall and massive. Though humanoid in form, in detail it resembled a crocodile without a tail, and with a shorter mouth. The teeth it had were enough though, and there was cloth caught on the claws of one hand. Buffy didn't think the head normally looked straight backwards. She reached for the mirror.

"Hello?" she said, and in a moment, Fleur's face filled the mirror.

" 'Ave you found somezing?" asked Fleur anxiously.

"Oh, yeah," Buffy answered, "you can bring Willow here?"

"Oui, lay the mirror at your feet, and zen back away," commanded Fleur. Buffy complied, and a few heartbeats later there was a loud crack, and Willow and Fleur appeared.

"I love traveling like that," Willow said excitedly, "can you teach me?"

"We shall see, what ees zat zing?"

"Some kind of Demon," answered Buffy. "Should we get Giles?"

"Fleur, can you take us all to the house where you found us?"

"Oui, take hold of Buffy, Buffy, please hang onto zat zing, d'accord?" Buffy nodded, and grabbed the creatures' arm. For the second time Buffy felt the lurch of apparition, it made her nauseated. She faintly heard Willow giggling. The lot of them appeared in the large entry hall of the house. The small man in the smoking jacket started shrieking.

"Stupefy!" said Fleur, and the shrieking stopped.

"Can you teach me how to do that?" inquired Giles.

"Me too," said Willow.

"And us!" echoed a half-dozen or so young women.

"Do you recognize this thing, Giles?" asked Buffy.

"It's vaguely familiar, yes. Kennedy, would you please fetch me the Griswold's Demon Compendium from the library?" A girl with longish brown hair left the group.

"She's my sweetie," Willow whispered to Fleur. Fleur smiled. The book arrived in a moment, and the women watched as Giles flipped through the pages.

"Got it!" he exclaimed. "Oh, dear Lord…"

"Giles…" began Buffy.

"It's a Protomorphic Demon, extremely violent and powerful, most often serving as paid assassins, but that's not the worst of it."

"Do keep us in suspense please," Buffy said tersely.

"What? Oh, oh yes, well the good news is that it's not venomous."

"But…" prompted Buffy.

"Well, it seems that this Demon seeks to transfer to another body when it feels imperiled. It enters through a wound, and proceeds to, well; make itself at home, all the while absorbing any special abilities the host may have. The process is more than mere possession; the demon literally converts the body of the host into its own. The green streaks mark the progress, if they cover the host completely, it's over. "

"So this thing is going to wind up with Slayer powers on top of its own?" questioned Willow.

"Unless we can stop it, yes," answered Giles.

" 'Zen we must stop it," pronounced Fleur. " 'Ow do we do eet?"

"It's fairly simple, but extremely dangerous," Giles began, "and we need someone that Faith trusts absolutely, and who is willing to risk their life for her."

"Who does Faith trust?" asked Buffy. "Has she ever trusted anyone?"

"She trusts 'Ermione and me," said Fleur confidently. "What do we do?"

"There is a spell to prepare, and it would be well to review the notes here of those who have survived this. I should warn you that not many do," Giles answered.

"Is there anything I can do here in the meantime?" Hermione's voice asked, and Fleur handed him the mirror.

"Perhaps. The survivors mentioned that they could sense it when someone they knew was close to them. Faith is engaged in a battle both physical and mental, it may help her if you talk to her, surround her with familiar sounds and smells, even tastes. It may give her something to hold on to."

"Fine, I will, but please hurry. Fleur, you know what potion ingredients we have on hand if you need anything. I'll keep the mirror close, but I'm going to Faith now." Hermione's face vanished.

"Now then, the battle going on within Faith is quite real, although it takes place on a mystical plane. What this plane looks like depends largely on the mind of the host. The demon seeks to part the host from all that it knows, friends, family, life experiences, in order to weaken the will and allow the demon to assume complete control."

"The spell here results in a total fusion of a trusted person in the victims' life. It is literal and physical; the rescuer melts into the victim and joins them on the mystical plane. There is no way back but victory, if the demon wins, the rescuer is simply gone. That is why it is so dangerous. Ms. Delacour, are you sure that either you or the girl in the mirror are prepared for such a risk?" Fleur thought for a moment before answering.

"She is our Faith, we will not forsake 'er, that 'as happened too often to 'er. She opened 'erself to us and allowed us to love her, she has a claim on us. What happens after zis fusion?"

"You fight. It is a physical encounter with the demon, the blood is real. If you succeed in killing the demon, you will separate from Faith, and there will remain only the wounds of the flesh which should heal in time."

"Will Faith be able to fight as well?" asked Fleur.

"Yes, if she is able, from the sound of the wound however, she won't be anywhere near her full strength. If she was, the battle would be over by now," answered Giles.

"Could a Slayer make the trip?" asked Buffy.

"Of course, but can you think of a Slayer that Faith truly trusts? One that would be willing to take this risk?"

"No to the first," answered Buffy, "I might take the risk, but I guess "might" isn't good enough."

"Indeed not, and you did stab her once, and that doesn't tend to breed intimacy," replied Giles.

"Per'aps one day we shall speak of zat," whispered Fleur. Buffy felt cold water run down her spine.

"It wasn't Buffy's fault, honest," piped Willow, "it was the Mayors'."

"Which one of you do you think should do this Ms. Delacour? Since you think either of you could."

"The object is to kill 'zis demon, n'est ce pas?"

"Yes."

" Zen it should be 'Ermione, 'er dueling is better zan mine. She 'as few peers with a wand."

"You have wands?" interrupted Willow.

"I'm afraid that won't enter into it. Magic does not work in that realm, and in any case the wand cannot pass over, no material object can, other than the body of the trusted one. No weapon, no armor, you go naked or not at all," Giles told her.

" Zen it will be me," Fleur said firmly. Buffy, Giles, and Willow looked at each other. None of them thought the slender French woman would be a match for the demon, especially with Faith injured as she was.

"Do you have combat training, then?" asked Giles.

"Not as such, no. But zere ees more to me zan meets zee eye." Willow and Kennedy shared a thought at that. "When can we go?"

"As soon as we round up the ingredients and mix the potion, Willow, take this list and gather what you need. The potion is a simple infusion, get some kind of oil for the base, anything will do. Buffy, can either you or Kennedy give Ms. Delacour any advice on how to kill this demon?"

"Beheading almost always works, kind of hard without a weapon though. Breaking its neck seems to have worked too; Faith just didn't get him before she was wounded. It's strong, demons always are, and this one has nasty teeth and claws. It's pretty big too," Buffy added apologetically.

"Would tearing eet to pieces work?" asked Fleur. The Slayers goggled at her.

"I would say yes," Kennedy affirmed.

"D'accord, I shall do zat, zen." The look on Fleur's face made the statement seem not absurd at all.

"I have the ingredients," Willow panted as she rushed into the room, "all I could find was massage oil, but at least it smells nice!" Fleur smiled at her, and something happened to Willow's knees, just for a moment.

"Marvelous, measure, mix and infuse!" Giles commanded.

"Can you help me with this, Fleur?" asked Willow.

"Of course, do zee ingredients get chopped, or ground?"

"Ground, here's a mortar and pestle, I'll measure and you grind, okay?"

"Oui." Willow had time to admire Fleur's expertise with the ancient tools of potion making; she had scarcely added a component before Fleur had reduced it to powder.

"That's it," said Willow, and she tipped the last of the ingredients into the bottle of oil and shook it vigorously before pouring half of it into another bottle.

"Now then Willow, here is the incantation, it's quite straightforward. The oil has to be applied to both Faith and Ms. Delacour, be thorough, they should both be completely covered, hair too, I'm afraid."

"I'll help!" blurted Kennedy. Fleur raised an eyebrow and the Slayer blushed fiercely.

"After the oil is applied, you must fit your body against Faith's and align yourself as exactly as possible with her, Willow will do the incantation, and if all goes well Ms. Delacour will seem to melt into Faith. After that Ms. Delacour, it is up to you and Faith."

"Call me Fleur, please. No matter what 'appens you 'ave my gratitude, M'sieu Giles." Fleur kissed him on either cheek, and he blushed fiercely.

"Oh, I say, yes, well then… Buffy, you and Kennedy should go along in case… I mean, that is to say..."

" Een case I fail," Fleur finished. Giles nodded. Fleur took hold of Buffy's arm, " 'old tight, mes amies," said Fleur, and the four women cracked out.

"Amazing woman," said Giles aloud, "I do hope nothing happens to her."

"Where am I?" moaned Andrew.

"Stupefy!" cried Giles.

"Huh?"

"Damn it," muttered Giles. "Make yourself useful Andrew, drag this demon out back and bury it."

Willow did not drop the potion when they appeared in the bedroom of Fleur and Hermione's flat, but it was a near thing. On the bed before them was a naked Faith, with a naked Hermione clinging to her, her fingers in Faith's mouth, her mouth whispering to Faith and kissing her neck and ear, and her hips moving as she slowly rubbed herself on Faith's thigh.

"Are we interrupting?" asked Buffy archly.

"Well done, ma petite!" exclaimed Fleur. Hermione looked up at them.

"Giles said familiar sounds, smells, and tastes, quit staring and get to work. What do we do now?"

"I am going to merge with Faith, and 'elp her to fight the demon," said Fleur as she began removing her clothes. "The magic that allows this will not allow wands or weapons to cross over, so I should be the one to do eet."

"Yes, that makes sense, what happens if you lose?"

"I will be gone forever, and the demon will absorb Faith into itself. If that happens, these Slayers will kill the demon."

"Then you must win. What first?"

"Both of them have to be completely covered with this potion," said Willow, handing Hermione a bottle, "then I'll perform an incantation while Fleur is in contact with Faith. If it works, Fleur will join Faith on the mystical plane." Hermione nodded, and began applying the oil to Faith, working quickly, but carefully. Fleur had removed the last of her clothing, and she turned to Kennedy.

"You wanted to 'elp, so 'elp. I must prepare for battle." Fleur stood with her feet well apart, her arms held out to her sides, her eyes closed. Kennedy looked helplessly at Willow, who was staring at Fleur. Willow shook herself and nodded.

"I'll help too; we'll worry about this later." The two women began rubbing the oil onto Fleur's body; their hands stopped shaking after a while.

"Don't worry about the effect she has on you, any of you," said Hermione, looking at a very uncomfortable Buffy as she spoke. "Fleur is part Veela, a magical creature, and she is calling on that part now. You can't help what you are feeling, none of you, I understand, and I do not mind that you are aroused by her. Feel free to pitch in, Buffy; a chance like this doesn't come along every day." Buffy blushed fiercely, but she knelt and rubbed oil on Fleur's legs.

"Do not mees any spots," murmured Fleur.

"No problem," assured Willow. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hermione levitating Faith and turning her over. "Nice levitation," she commented, "does the wand help that?"

"The wand helps most things, but you can become too dependent on it. We really have to get together when this is over. We have a lot to learn from each other." Willow's eyes sparkled at the thought of acquiring new magical knowledge, and the sight of Hermione's breasts.

"All done!" announced Buffy.

"Non, you are not," said Fleur as her eyes opened. Those eyes were no longer blue, but the golden eyes of a bird of prey. She fixed her eyes on Kennedy. "Would you like 'ermione to feenish zis?" Kennedy moved as in a trance and gently rubbed oil onto Fleur's most delicate parts. "Merci, Slayer," said Fleur, "please get the bottoms of my feet after I lie down." Kennedy nodded numbly.

"I could have done that," muttered Buffy, her mouth dropped open in shock.

"It's okay Buffy, it doesn't mean you're gay," assured Willow, "remember what Hermione said, Veela."

"But maybe I wanna be gay," pouted Buffy as she watched Fleur arrange herself on top of Faith.

"That's as close as they can match up," Willow said, "now for the incantation." She began to read from the paper that Giles had given her, the air in the room became thick, and a glow began to suffuse the forms of Fleur and Faith. The bed trembled, and the forms on the bed began to blur in outline. Willow came to the end of the incantation, and the trembling increased, as did the blurring, but Fleur did not fade entirely from view.

"What's wrong?" asked Hermione urgently.

"I may not be strong enough," gasped Willow. Hermione stepped to her and seized both of Willows' hands in hers.

"Take what you need," Hermione commanded.

Willow's eyes grew round and black as the power flowed into her from Hermione. This was magic such as Willow had never known, magic born into the woman in front of her, magic schooled and disciplined by great witches and wizards, and imbued with Hermione's own knowledge and love for Fleur and Faith. Willow repeated the last line of the incantation in a voice not her own, and in a last pulse of light, Fleur was gone.

Willow's eyes slowly returned to normal, and she found herself face to face with a naked witch she now knew as well as herself. "Wow," she whispered.

"You're a very lucky woman," Hermione told Kennedy.

"You too," replied the Slayer as she hastily took her fingers from her mouth.

"She's delicious, is she not?" teased the nude witch.

"How long is this Veela inspired horniness gonna last?" grumped Buffy.

"Oh that," Hermione said, "I can't say, I've never seen it wear off."

"Welcome to our side!" chirped Willow as she grabbed Buffy's arm.

"I hate to rain on this coming out party, but shouldn't we be paying attention here?"

Faith was talking urgently, but too faint to hear, the muscles on her gleaming body bunched and rippled. The wound was now only a ragged scar on her flank.

"Faith!" called Fleur as she ran down a long corridor flanked by doorways, "Faith, where are you?"

"Where you cannot find her, you delicious morsel," rumbled a hate-filled voice. Fleur turned to face the demon. "You are her champion? You, a mere bed-toy? She was a warrior, and I defeated her!"

"So whose neck was it I broke, scaly?" said Faith as she emerged from a doorway and stepped to Fleur's side.

"That means nothing! Soon I shall be reborn, with your power as well as my own. I can smell your injury, Slayer, you have not the strength to defeat me here!"

"And what do you smell on me, maggot-food?" snarled Fleur. "Get be'ind me Faith," commanded Fleur. Faith did, and as she did Fleur's skin changed, and wings erupted from her back, her fingers twisted into talons and she shrieked like a great eagle.

"Burn, you piece of filth!" she cried, and a ball of fire burst forth in her hand. Fleur hurled the fire right in the demon's face.

"There is no magic here!" cried the demon as his skin blistered, "No spell will work!"

"No spell am I using, I am Veela, and this fire is of me! Born of my love for this woman I shield. You shall not have her, filth!" Fleur launched herself at the demon, tearing at him with her talons, stripping great hunks of skin and flesh from him.

"Enough!" roared the demon, and he struck Fleur a great blow across the face, knocking her back into Faith's arms. "I shall eat you before I kill you, be you woman or harpy!" Fleur stood and wiped the blood from her face.

"We shall see who eats whom, shall we not?" Fleur followed the fire to the demon, and dark blood sprayed the hallway.

"Can you tell what is happening?" Willow asked Hermione. Hermione was peering into Faith's eyes as she trembled on the bed, her body rigid as a stone statue.

"Fleur is still fighting, she feels… different somehow. I believe she has transformed."

"Transformed into what?" asked Willow.

"Pure Veela can transform into creatures sort of like giant eagles. They are quite fearsome, but Fleur is only part Veela, the most I have ever seen her transform was her fingers getting like talons. And that was only in times of great stress or arousal. This feels like more."

"She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," said Buffy. "Was that out loud?"

"It was, and she is," assured Hermione, "but she is braver than beautiful, and she can make the world disappear with her touch."

"oh," Buffy breathed. Kennedy offered her hand to Willow.

"It never wears off?" questioned Willow as she kissed Kennedy's fingers.

Hermione shrugged.

Fleur and the demon faced each other in the hallway, the demon was a mass of blood and burned flesh, one of Fleur's arms hung at an awkward angle, and her fire was spent. Both of them were fighting for breath.

"You have fought well, Veela," admitted the demon, "but you do not have the strength to kill me before I kill you. I wish I could add your power to my own, but that is not to be, you will cease to exist, but I salute your memory."

"And I damn yours, and will have your life before you take my Faith." With a great cry, Fleur fell upon the demon, the talons of her good hand in his eye, and her beak in his throat. Roaring in pain and rage, the demon bore her to the ground, struggling to grasp her throat in his hands.

Faith moved. She forced her way past the two combatants and sat astride the demons' back, seizing his chin in one hand and a placing the other on his low forehead, She hissed in pain as the effort pulled at the wound in her side, she gritted her teeth, took a deep breath, and wrenched with all of her strength. The demons' throat was torn open by Fleur's beak as it was tugged from it by Faith's effort, there was a loud crack as the demons' neck shattered, and a softer one as the talon embedded in his eye snapped.

Faith gathered the blood-soaked Veela in her arms, and tried to wipe her face clear, the blue eyes opened, and Fleur smiled. "I told you we would keep you, n'est ce pas?"

The air above Faith's body shimmered, and the flesh seemed to stretch, and in an instant Fleur was lying on top of her, bruises livid on her flesh. Hermione rushed to her and gently rolled her off of Faith, who was stirring awake.

"What up, B?" she said as her eyes focused on Buffy. Then her eyes filled with fear and she turned anxiously to Fleur, Hermione was pouring a liquid between the swollen lips, and muttering spells non-stop. "Do you know what she did for me?" Faith asked the room at large. "Why would she do that?"

"She loves you, Faith," answered Buffy. "Both of them do. You won, get it? You have everything that matters, in this life or the next one."

"Will she be okay? She has to be okay!" Faith asked desperately.

"She'll be fine, Faith. I'll take her to the hospital just to be safe, but it's only bruises and a couple of broken bones. I promise, she'll be fine," assured Hermione through a curtain of tears. "Do you want to come with us?" Faith gave her a look that more than answered that question. "Right, we should get dressed, robes will do. No point in causing more trouble than we have to, and Fleur is still broadcasting Veela on a wide beam."

"You're a long way from home," Hermione told Willow and her friends, "we owe you a lot, but I want to get Fleur to help right away. I'll take you home as soon as I can. Is that okay?"

"By all means take care of Fleur," agreed Buffy. "I think we're all beat anyway, can we crash here till you get back?"

"Damn straight, B," said Faith, "the guest room is down the hall and there's always good food in the fridge. Mi casa, su casa." Tears welled up in the dark brown eyes. "Thank you all, just, thank you." They nodded at her, happy to see her finally whole.

"Come 'ere, my friends," said Fleur softly, and Hermione beckoned to Willow and the Slayers. "Buffy, come closer, s'il te plait." Buffy leaned over her, noticing that her eyes were back to blue and approving the change. Fleur's hand found the back of Buffy's head and pulled her unresisting into a kiss. "Welcome to zee club, n'est ce pas?"

"Well, what about us, we're in the club too you know," protested Willow.

"Anuzzer time," promised Fleur, "in zee meanwhile, enjoy being a sandwich." Fleur drifted off to sleep.

"What kind of witch?" asked Willow.

Faith whispered something into her ear.

"Oh, OOHhhhh! Neat!" exclaimed Willow. "You'd better get her to the hospital quick, don't want to take any chances, no sir!"

Hermione smiled, and Apparated Faith and Fleur away.

"What was that all about?" asked Kennedy.

Willow took Kennedy and Buffy by the hand and led them down the hallway, "You'll see, come with me, bread."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling and Joss Whedon

Summary – Marvin Gaye had a point, Andrew gets his, and ties between the Slayers and the Witches grow stronger.

Warnings: Magic-aided girlsex

A/N: As the story progresses, there will be more action and less sex, there are also more characters from both fandoms that will show up.

"Filled with Faith"

"Easy Fleur," said Faith anxiously, "let me carry you up the stairs."

"Might I remind you, ma belle Faith, zat eet ees you wiz zee 'orrible stomach wound, whereas I merely 'ave a broken arm and finger, both of which 'ave been magically healed?"

"Okay, but it's my destiny to be a warrior, and you're all girly and beautiful, and dainty and stuff."

"Did I look dainty fighting zee demon?"

"Hell no! You were one badass bitch! Scared the crap out of me, and tore croc-boy to shreds!"

" 'Zen I zink I can handle zee stairs, n'est ce pas?" Fleur smiled her love at Faith, and tousled the dark hair. "Really, I am fine, my love."

"Neither one of you is fine," correctd Hermione, "and you are both going to bed, AND taking a sleeping potion. I'm not taking a chance on you two hurting each other in a frenzied round of "Oh God you saved me I love you it makes me so hot to see you fight please fuck me till I die", euphoria-induced, sex."

"Just a little," pleaded Faith, " 'Mione, she was so _badass_. I'm gettin' all swampy just thinking of it."

"No."

"Per'aps it would 'elp us to relax, Cher -"

"No."

"But..."

"No! There will be time for that, I promise you, but I know what I'm talking about. It's not just the physical injuries; the whole experience of that mystical plane was hard on you both. I talked with the healers, who by the way were _very_ interested in Faith. Especially the tall redhead."

"Really? She was hot," Faith purred.

"Down girl, 'eef you are nice per'aps we can invite her for dinner zometime," Fleur teased, "she did look tasty."

"Double doses for you both. I swear, if I knew getting the shit beat out of you made you two so horny, I'd have done it myself," spat Hermione.

"All right, 'Mione!" cried Faith.

"Also, you need to remember that we have guests. Guests who may still be in a very delicate condition, mind you."

"I 'ope I did not cause too much trouble for 'zem," Fleur said anxiously.

"No worries, Willow has been a conductor on the P-train for a while, and B has such shitty luck with men it would have to do her good to change sides."

"If they are awake, you may speak with them briefly," Hermione told them, "but remember that magic _does_ work here, and that I am completely serious about both of you resting."

"Yes, Mother," chorused Fleur and Faith. Faith had never been so happy in her life, had never even imagined it to be possible. Here were these two beautiful and powerful women, and they loved her enough to risk more than death for her. Faith burst into tears.

" 'Eet is alright, my pet," crooned Fleur, "zis ees real."

Hermione also knew what was in Faith's heart."You're home Faith, with us you are always home." She opened the door and ushered her lovers inside.

Three sated women were seated around the table, eating cold leftovers.

"I hope you don't mind," Willow began, "we kind of woke up hungry."

"So you did not 'ave a sandwich?" queried Fleur.

"Ohhh yeah, we did," Buffy said, blushing. "Who knew getting eaten would make you so hungry – was that out loud?"

"Way to go, B!" squealed Faith, "finally got some of the good stuff!"

"Slayers make very good bread," said Willow muzzily, "as long as you don't need to breathe."

" Zere ees a spell for zat," Fleur purred.

"Show us!" demanded the sandwich.

"Later," promised Hermione, "these two are going to bed and going to sleep."

"We changed the sheets on your bed," Kennedy told them, "they were pretty oily."

"Merci beaucoup," Fleur answered her, "and I apologize eef my Veela side 'as caused you any problems."

"Well, I won't pretend it didn't shake things up," said Buffy, "but I have the feeling it was there all along. Of course, maybe if I were exposed to your Veela-ness on a regular basis, I could work up some sort of immunity."

"Nice try, B," Faith laughed, "get your own Veela."

"Whatever happened to sharing?" asked Buffy.

"Sharing is wonderful," Hermione stated, "and we can talk about it. But these two are going to bed now. I'll be back in a minute." Hermione escorted Fleur and Faith to the bedroom, and handed each of them a flask.

"Drink."

They both knew that tone, and in truth they were both exhausted, the adrenaline gone, the aches starting up in earnest. They drank, and they donned the granny-gowns without protest, and allowed Hermione to tuck them in.

"Sweet dreams," said Hermione as she kissed them, "I love you both, and I am so proud of you. My girls, my sweet, brave, badass girls." Fleur and Faith drifted into sleep smiling.

"I can take you home now," Hermione said as she joined the sandwich makings.

"Shouldn't you stay with them for a while?" asked Kennedy.

"They'll be fine, they will sleep for at least 12 hours, and I've set wards to notify me if anything happens. You are welcome to stay as long as you want, though."

"You know so much magic," said Willow, "here I thought I was something, but the things I saw when we were connected…"

"Trust me Willow; you can hold your own. You just don't have the benefit of my training and education. I saw things in you that amazed me. The way you came back from the edge of destroying the world…"

"That was Xander, he stopped me."

"He reached you, you stopped it. But there is time for this later. Fleur and I need to know more about Slayers. We need to be able to help Faith better. I think we can help all of you too, and I know that you can help us. Ready to travel?"

"Do I look different?" asked Buffy.

"Nope. Same old Buffy," answered Willow, "do you feel different?"

"I feel like I _should_ feel different."

"Buffy," said Hermione gently, "however you feel is fine, but you have to understand how powerful the Veela thrall is. Especially Fleur's, and especially when she was so aroused. I have never seen that much power from her. You responded as you did because you love Willow, I know that you always have, and I think it was wonderful that your first experience of sex with a woman was with her, because she loves you too. It doesn't mean that either of you will ever want that again though. Your friendship is rare and precious, and it is stronger than sex. Give it time, both of you."

"The sharing I did with Willow allowed me to see everything that you have shared, as Willow saw into me, and I want you both in my life. Kennedy, we are no threat to you, your relationship with Willow is a good one. I know all of this witchcraft, and Veela thrall, and open sexuality is a bit new for you. Slayers were a bit of a shock to us too, believe me." Hermione smiled at the memory. "Do you want to go home now?"

"I think we'd better, Giles must be frantic," said Buffy, "but just so you know, if you and Fleur ever want another Slayer to play with, I'm in." Kennedy frantically tried to catch Hermione's eye.

"I saw that," said Willow, smiling.

"Very well then," said Hermione, "join hands and hang on."

"Ahhh, my little ones, you return, was your quest successful? Did you bring honor to the _Vampyr_ Sla-"

"Stupefy!" cried Hermione, Andrew slumped to the floor.

"Thank you," said Giles, "are you alright? Is Faith alright? Is Fleur alright? What happened?"

"Big demon fight, badass Veela, oil, sandwiches, magic, the usual," said Buffy cheerfully. "Faith is fine, Fleur is _really_ fine. How's things here?"

"What? Oh, fine. Yes, all fine. Not that I don't appreciate it, but why did you stun Andrew, Hermione?"

"So that we can decide what to do with him without having to put up with his whining," she answered.

"Do with him? How do you mean?" Giles asked, clearly puzzled.

"I assume you know that he played at least some part in Tara's death?" Hermione inquired.

"Yes, but how do you know?"

"She shared magical energy with me," volunteered Willow, "it was amazing, she's really powerful, and she knows so many spells, and… oh, she mostly knows everything that I do, sort of. It, it's hard to explain," she trailed off.

"Why is he here?" asked Hermione. "Willow clearly doesn't like him, and Fleur took an instant dislike to him."

"I'm not sure, really," said Giles, seeming to consider this for the first time. "I mean, he was there when the town was destroyed, and he just sort of tagged along, I suppose."

"Does he actually do anything useful?" Hermione asked further.

"Well yes, he's a dab hand with electronics, set up the security system here, in fact."

"Do the Slayers like him?"

"Not really," Kennedy spoke up, "he's kind of creepy."

"Do you mind if I ask him some questions? I feel like I owe you something for helping us, and what I know of him from Willow and Fleur makes me quite uneasy."

"By all means, ask away," said Giles, "I don't suppose you can do it without waking him, can you?"

"In a sense, yes, I can." Hermione walked over to the unconscious Andrew and pointed her wand at his face.

"Oooh, magic!" squeaked Willow.

"Enervate," spoke Hermione, and Andrew stirred. His eyes opened, and as soon as they did - "Legilimens!" Hermione intoned. For long minutes she stood with her eyes locked on those of the boy on the floor, at last she gave her wand a contemptuous flick, and he collapsed again.

"I want a bath," muttered Hermione. Buffy started to raise her hand, but reconsidered.

"An unusual manner of asking questions," Giles opined, "did you get any answers?"

"Indeed. He's really a very nasty little piece of work. You know all of the things he and his friends did and tried to do to Buffy, I assume?"

"I think so," Buffy said, "tried to drive me crazy, tried to frame me for murder, tried to kill me."

"Those are the highlights, yes," Hermione agreed, "I suppose you had reasons for bringing him along after all of that, but are you aware that he has cameras in all of the bedrooms and bathrooms in this house?"

"What?" said Buffy angrily.

"And that he has been selling information on the Slayers to a Vampire named Nicodemus?"

"Nicodemus is dead, he was killed in 1593 in the Balkans," protested Giles.

"I can't say if it's the same one, but the name is the same. It was Nicodemus who sent that demon after Faith, and that makes this _my_ business," Hermione said grimly.

"How do you know all this?" Giles questioned.

"I used legilimency, I read his mind, and it's not something I would care to do again I assure you." Hermione shuddered. "I know where he passed this information off, and how. I assume this is something you're all interested in?"

"Too bloody right we are!"

"The immediate question is what do I do with this little git?" Hermione mused.

"We can't let you kill him," Giles said automatically.

"Why not?" asked everyone in the room.

"No reason at all, I suppose, now you mention it," mused the Englishman, "may I kill him too?"

"I won't kill him, I read his mind," reminded Hermione, "and I am going to grant him his dearest wish." Hermione performed a complex movement of her wand, and uttered an incantation that no one present understood, there was a flash of light, and where Andrew had been, there was now…

"A dog?" Giles said in wonder, "his dearest wish was to be a dog?"

"Not precisely," said Hermione.

The dog sat up, looked around blearily, and then proceeded to lick his privates.

"Wish granted, you slimy little git," said Hermione in a tone of satisfaction.

"Dear Lord," said Giles, just before convulsing with mirth. The insane laughter from the living room soon brought all of the Slayers that were home to see what was up. Willow finally managed to stop laughing long enough to gasp out the tale, and soon enough the entire place was in an uproar. Andrew wandered off to find a quieter place to lick his balls.

"He's going straight to the Veterinarian, you know," Giles gasped as he wiped his eyes, "must be responsible pet owners and all that."

"Right," agreed Buffy, "Vet, then the pound." There was general agreement.

"We should start planning how to find this Nicodemus," Giles proposed, "if he is the original, he's terribly powerful."

"Fleur and I will help you all that we can, Mr. Giles," Hermione pledged. "This is our fight now, too."

"Call me Rupert, and we'd be honored. I can't thank you enough for dealing with our Andrew problem; all of the Slayers will have to be especially on guard now. I can't believe we didn't realize what the little ponce was up to."

"I suppose that you were all striving to ignore him," suggested Hermione. "We need to stay in touch from now on though, I think."

"Are those mirrors you and Fleur use hard to get?" asked Willow.

"Any mirror will do, the spell is pretty advanced, but nothing you can't learn after we get you a wand," Hermione told her.

"A wand? Really?" squeaked Willow.

"Really. And a lot more if you're interested, Willow. I need to get home now, but we'll talk soon. It was nice to meet you all." Hermione Disapparated.

"What a remarkable young woman, so very well-spoken and intelligent," Giles said in admiration.

"She's an amazing witch," Willow volunteered.

"Nice rack, too," said Buffy.

"That was out loud, Buffy" Willow whispered to her.

"Am I wrong?"

"I beg you all never to explain that to me," Giles requested. "I think I should start researching Nicodemus straight away. Can one of you make an appointment with a Vet for Andrew?"

There was a stampede to the telephone.

Back home, Hermione checked on Fleur and Faith to find them sleeping soundly, nestled like spoons. She watched them for a considerable time, tears of relief pouring down her face, and then she visited the bath and joined them. Eventually she slept, lulled by the steady beating of her other two hearts.

"Oh dear Lord," said Giles softly, looking up from his book.

"Apocalypse?" asked Buffy.

"Nicodemus was the sire of Kakistos. I trust you recall him?"

"Vividly, we have to warn Faith."

"Indeed, but do you know how? We haven't a telephone number for them, nor a mirror," Giles pointed out.

"I can find the place. I'll take a cell. I can phone you."

"Do be careful, there may be other assassins about," cautioned Giles.

"Yes Mom. Seriously, I will, and Giles?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"Oh! Thank you Buffy, I love you as well."

"I know you do. I just wasn't sure you knew I did." Buffy left, and Giles settled into his chair with a sappy grin on his face.

Buffy had a good idea of the direction to go, because of the view from the rooftop across from Fleur's flat. But there are quite a few rooftops in Paris. Buffy, however, was diligent. And Buffy had a beacon, the image of a nude, oil-covered Fleur Delacour.

"This looks familiar," she said a few hours later. She jumped a few rooftops, and then… "There, that's it." She called Giles. "Found them," she reported, and told Giles the address. "Looks like they're all asleep, I know Hermione gave F-squared a sleeping potion, and it might suppress Faith's instincts, so I'll keep an eye on them 'till they wake. Might be another demon around somewhere."

"Excellent idea, Buffy. Shall I send you some help?"

"Let's spread six around the perimeter. But have them stay off of this block unless I call for backup, I'd really rather they intercept things before they get near here."

"Done. We'll be on-scene as soon as we can."

"Aren't you going to tell me to be careful?"

"Under the circumstances, I didn't think I needed to. However… be careful, Buffy."

"Thanks, I will. See you later." She ended the call, and took a seat on an overturned bucket. She replayed recent events in her mind as she scanned the area for threats.

It had been quite a day. Had it been only one? Was she now a lesbian? Was she bi? Had she simply been overcome by Fleur's thrall? She decided that she did not care what the answer to any of those questions might be; the important thing was that she now had a wider outlook on life, and it seemed to her that that had to be a good thing.

The light was fading from the sky when Giles called to inform her that the other slayers were patrolling the area, and it was shortly after full dark when she saw a light come on in the flat across the way. Through the window, Buffy saw Hermione enter the kitchen, and put a kettle on the stove. It was a homelike scene, Buffy thought of Faith sleeping securely with the beautiful Veela while this lovely and powerful witch cared for them. She thought of her own life, no one to really share her intimate needs, she had friends, and a wonderful Father-figure in Giles, but no one of her own, no heart to beat with hers.

She was surprised to realize that she did not envy Faith. She was happy for her. That realization made her feel better than she had in quite some time. It became obvious that Hermione intended to stay up for a while, and Buffy dropped lightly to the street below and entered her building. Her hand was poised to knock softly when the door opened.

"Come in please, Buffy," Hermione welcomed her, "would you care for some tea?"

"How did you – "

"Magic. I have wards set to notify me when someone approaches, and they identify people I know. What brings you here so late? Aren't you tired? Come and sit while I get you a cup." Buffy sat at the table and talked while Hermione fetched a cup and saucer for her.

"We found out some stuff about Nicodemus. There are a half-dozen Slayers patrolling this area, and I'll watch your building tonight. It turns out that Nicodemus sired a Vamp called Kakistos that Faith and I dusted. Not without some effort, he was tough, and Daddy is likely to be even tougher. We'll keep up the patrols until we find him and deal with him."

"Thank you," said Hermione as she poured Buffy's tea and sat beside her, "I feel better knowing that you and your friends are around. We've had mixed results with magic on Vampires. They seem to have a sort of resistance to common spells, and even the Killing Curse doesn't work on them. It will kill dragons, but not Vampires. I suppose it's because Vampires aren't really alive, are they?"

"Nope. Undead. Listen, I'm a bit embarrassed about how I behaved around Fleur, I mean, she's yours. And Faith's, but…"

"Please don't be embarrassed, you couldn't help it. She's compelling. And how could I be upset that you find her attractive? She is."

"Boy is she… anyway, I'm glad that Faith has the two of you. You're good for her. She and I haven't always gotten along, she's had it rough, and she's made some bad choices in her life. But you two aren't one of them. I never thought that I would see her happy."

"She is, and you will be," said Hermione softly.

"What, you can tell the future too?"

"Rather say that I'm intuitive. I have a strong feeling about you, you remind me of someone, or you make me think of someone, whichever it is, it excites me. Good things are coming to you. Would you like to stay here tonight?"

"Thanks, but I'd feel better keeping an eye on what's happening outside. Do you have a telephone? It would be nice to be able to reach you."

"Yes, I'm sorry I didn't give you the number before. Phones tend to slip our minds," Hermione smiled, and wrote a number on a bit of parchment and gave it to Buffy.

"Wow, my luck's improving," said Buffy, "I've only been gay for a day, and I already got the phone number of a hottie!"

"Like I said, I have a strong feeling about you. Now you had better go if you aren't going to stay the night. I hate to start things that I can't finish." Buffy flushed fiercely, but she finished her tea and headed for the door.

"You were teasing me, right?" she asked from the doorway.

"Of course," said Hermione as she trailed one hand across a breast, "but that doesn't mean I wasn't serious." Buffy gawked.

"I- I'll see you later Hermione," she stammered. Hermione smiled broadly at her.

"You've already seen me, Slayer," she said huskily. Buffy closed the door.

"Oh yeah. This is different," she muttered as she hit the streets.

"That was fun," said Hermione as she sipped her tea. "But I suppose I'll have to come across sometime soon, otherwise it would just be rude." She finished her tea, and returned to bed and rejoined Fleur and Faith, in a moment she was back asleep.

Buffy patrolled the block, and thought about Hermione until it made her a bit uncomfortable. Thinking about Andrew counterbalanced that, and made her angry enough to stay alert. Morning found Buffy on the rooftop across from Faith's place, and a window swung open to reveal Faith, who beckoned to her. Buffy jumped across and entered by the window.

"Morning B, you hungry? Fleur cooks a mean breakfast."

"Starving, thanks. Is there anything she can't do?"

"Not yet, but if there ever is anything, I bet Hermione can do it," Faith gently bragged.

"Me too, they're great. Has Hermione had time to tell you what we found out about who set you up with that demon?"

"Yeah, that's how I knew you were out there," Faith stared at the blonde for a long moment. "Thank you, Buffy," she said seriously, "we can be friends now, can't we?"

"I'd love it. We really are more alike than we are different, except for the whole thing about you living with these two drop-dead gorgeous witches, I mean."

"They're pretty special all right," agreed Faith, "I think 'Mione has a little thing for you, too."

"I doubt it, and anyway, she's yours. I wouldn't betray you like that, Faith. Never."

"She's hers, actually. And it wouldn't be a betrayal, not if she was cool with it. Come on Buff, it's not like if you ate her she'd be _gone_ is it?" laughed Faith. "Come on, let's help with breakfast."

"Buffy, 'ow nice to see you," Fleur greeted her, " 'ow do you like your eggs?"

"As long as they're out of the shell I'm happy. How's the healing going?

"Very well, 'Ermione is an exceptional healer, among other zings," Fleur's eyes twinkled.

"Are you guys always gonna tease me like this?" asked Buffy in mock exasperation.

"No," answered Hermione as she entered the kitchen fully dressed in Muggle attire, "sooner or later we'll make good on it."

"Well zen, since no one expresses a preference, eet shall be omelets, french toast, and sausages. I leave the coffee or tea to zomeone else. I am a chef, not a barista, non?"

"I'll take you home after breakfast Buffy, I want to talk with Giles, and then I want to take Willow to see Olympe," Hermione told the Slayer.

"What's Olympe?"

"Who," corrected Hermione, "she is the Headmistress of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. I want her to meet Willow, if you think Willow would be interested in getting an advanced magical education."

"Willow, want to learn more magic? Only more than she'd want to rub oil on Fleur again. Well, not quite that much, maybe."

"I am glad to hear eet, I was afraid I was losing my charm," Fleur told her. "Bon appetit" said Fleur.

"Huh?" Replied Buffy, her cheeks blazing red.

"Breakfast, your breakfast ees ready, Buffy."

"Wound a bit tight there B?" asked Faith. Buffy didn't reply, but concentrated on her food.

Soon enough, they were all busy demolishing breakfast, and everyone was too busy for the moment to tease Buffy further. But it really didn't take all that long to finish.

"That was fantastic, Fleur!" gushed Buffy.

"Merci, I am 'appy you enjoyed eet. 'Ermione told me you and zee uzzer Slayers are watching over us. Zank you, I 'ope we can repay you some'ow."

"Well, Hermione did take care of Andrew for us. I'd say we're pretty even. Actually, I guess I might still owe you something for the oil-rubbing." Fleur smiled, and Buffy felt a general melting, she looked over at Faith, who winked at her.

"Does the same thing to me, Buff. And 'Mione… I'm a happy girl."

"Well, if Buffy is ready I'll take her home, and talk to Willow, and see what can be done about this Nicodemus. You two, however, are staying home today," she informed Fleur and Faith.

"What the hell for?" asked Faith belligerently, "I'm fine. Rarin' to go!"

"Moi aussi, Cher, I am quite well, even zee bruises are almost gone."

"Physically, you are both nearly recovered, that's true," agreed Hermione, "but you two need some time alone together to sort out what you went through. I know it looked to you like you were just in a long hallway together, but you were much closer than that. For a while you were a single being, and no matter how close we've gotten over the last months, this is different. You need to be alone together for a while, even if you don't say a word. But I think you will, and I don't think you need even me around while you do it. In any case, I'm not asking. Neither of you will be able to leave the apartment for 24 hours. What you do with that time is up to you."

Buffy looked at the three of them, noticing that Faith and Fleur weren't putting up a fight. "Can you do that? Can she do that?" she asked everybody.

"Indeed," Fleur told her, "Faith ees strong, and I am a capable witch, but if 'Ermione says we cannot leave, it is doubtless zee truth. Een any case, she ees correct. We do need zee time alone." She looked over at Faith, who had no comment, but the look on her face bespoke agreement.

"I'll be back in the morning," said Hermione. "Buffy says the Slayers will be patrolling, and I've set wards, so just concentrate on each other, and on getting settled in your own skins again. Okay?"

"Thanks, Hermione," said Faith softly, and she hugged Hermione and kissed her lightly. "How do you know so much?"

"I know the two of you. I expect to be spoiled extravagantly when I return though."

"We promise," said Fleur as she traced an "X" over her heart.

"Ready Buffy?"

"No, but at least it's fast. I don't much care for Apparition."

"Hang on to breakfast then," grinned Hermione, "here we go." They disappeared.

"I can still feel you inside me Fleur," Faith said quietly, "it's like I'm full, like there are no spaces between my molecules or something."

"Oui, I can still feel you surrounding me. It ees not a bad feeling, but eet ees distracting."

"I want you Fleur. Not just the usual 'you turn me on' kind of thing. I want to be inside of you, to feel surrounded by you, like. I think that might balance things out or something. Can you shrink me down little enough to do that?"

"Non, 'eet is too dangerous, I could transfigure you eento somezing small, but you would not retain your sense of self. But we can 'old each other closely, 'zat should be a start." Fleur rose, and dropped her robe to the floor, she held her hand out to Faith, who also stood and undressed. They embraced each other and stood long on the spot.

"Okay," said Hermione, "we can go now, unless you want to watch…"

"Huh?" said Buffy, breaking out of her reverie, "no. I mean, I don't think Faith would want me to… of course she'd want me to, it's like bragging. How come you don't mind me looking at them like that?"

"They're beautiful, why shouldn't you enjoy looking at them? But I really do have a lot to get done today. Should I leave you here?"

"No," Buffy said resolutely, "I'd feel a bit creepy spying from a rooftop. Let's go."

"Okay, but first…" Hermione took Buffy in her arms and gave Buffy a kiss that left the tiny blonde reeling.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?" panted Buffy.

"For a start," Hermione told her. "Hang on again." This time the apparition did not bother Buffy in the least.

"Fleur," began Faith, her voice muffled by the skin of the Veela's neck, "why…"

"Because Hermione and I preferred to take zee risk rather than face zee future without you in it, it was entirely selfish, I assure you," interrupted Fleur.

"That's so sweet… Fleur?"

"Yes, pet?"

"I'm going to carry you to bed and try to absorb you again, 'kay?"

"That sounds lovely; I warn you I shall return zee favor, n'est ce pas?"

"God, I love you, Fleur."

"Zen show me how much." Faith lifted her effortlessly, and took her to bed.

"One inch at the time," breathed Faith as she kissed Fleur's big toe. Faith rubbed her face on Fleur's feet, dragged her cheek up the swelling muscle of her calf, up the impossibly soft skin of her inner thighs. "I want all of you," she said huskily, "All. Of. You." The passion in her voice and the fire in her eyes started a heat deep inside of Fleur, and she could feel the Veela part of her, so recently dominant, stirring and licking her lips.

Faith's face pressed against Fleur's swelling sex as the Slayer breathed deeply the scent of the woman she loved, the woman who had risked more than death for her. Faith's nose parted Fleur's lips, brushed her clit, and moved relentlessly over her belly as the skin fluttered in its wake. Her hands molded to the blonde's breasts as her face moved up between them, finally burrowing into the softness of Fleur's neck.

Strong fingers pulled taut nipples as Faith opened her mouth wide, taking the slender neck in her teeth, resting her tongue on the pulsing blood vessels so close to the surface. The Slayer's fingers slid into the silver hair, and the brown eyes rose to gaze deeply into the blue as Faith began to slowly and powerfully grind her own engorged sex against Fleur's.

"I. Want. All. Of. You." Declared Faith as her mouth claimed Fleur's. There was only the noise of labored breathing, until a faint, wet, sound made its appearance. "This is not enough, not enough, not this time," breathed Faith, "I need to be closer to you; I need to be inside you. Shrink me. I want to die inside you."

Fleur reached for her wand.

"Zis weel 'urt," gasped Fleur as she drank in the sight of the woman riding her. The look on Faith's face was beyond description, a compound of lust and love, of need and desire, a burning passion that had kindled a matching response in Fleur as she too realized that they required something more this time.

"Will it let me inside you?"

"Oui."

"Then hurt me," Faith whispered, and she set her teeth in Fleur's lower lip. Faith felt the slender wand sliding between them, felt the tip of it come to rest on her clit. Her breath caught, and Fleur's lip slipped from between her teeth.

"Engorgio," whispered Fleur.

Faith felt a familiar tingle growing out of all recognition, a throbbing fire between her legs, a building pressure that tossed her about like a balloon in a windstorm.

"Come inside me," Fleur breathed, "please come inside me, now."

Faith raised herself to her knees, and looked down to see her clitoris swollen beyond belief. It was the size of her middle finger, and the nerves it carried were so sensitive that the air disturbed by their labored breathing brought sparks of pain. Fleur drew her knees up, forcing her thighs apart with her arms as she spread herself open with the tips of her fingers.

"Come and die inside me, fill me, Faith."

Faith placed her clit at Fleur's entrance, and slowly pressed forward and down with her hips. Her breath hissed through her teeth as she was drawn into liquid fire.

"Hot! So hot, I'm burning! Gods, Fleur, the inside of you is burning!"

"Is eet too much?" panted Fleur.

"Never. Never, never, never, I-" Faith's back arched, her muscles locking as her mind tried to sort out all of the new impressions that were flooding it. The overwhelming heat, the staggering array of textures within this woman beneath her, enveloping her. What she remembered as impossibly soft and delightfully warm was revealed to be boiling, an endless caress of ridges and valleys swelling and receding as she felt the life pulsing within her lover, a grip on her swollen and painfully sensitive flesh that sought to both push out and draw in.

Faith remained motionless for a time, unable to bear the sensations that movement brought, allowing the beat of Fleur's heart and the rippling of her inner walls to drive her to the brink.

Fleur held within her that most personal part of Faith, a tender and vulnerable carrier of nerves and blood. She milked it with herself, and felt deep within her the throbbing of this woman's desire and need for her. Fleur wrapped her legs around Faith, and slowly, tentatively, began to move her hips.

"NO!" gasped Faith, as for a moment she thought Fleur was going to force her out. But when the fire swallowed her again, and the pain swelled into something else, she matched the motions beneath her, adding her own passion to the blaze.

"Yesssssss!" hissed Fleur as she fastened her teeth in Faith's shoulder and quickened the thrusting of her hips.

"So. Fucking. _Hot. _ I'm inside you Fleur, inside you, inside y-"

Faith's hips moved jerkily, short, rapid, motions that soon began to ratchet as she lost control. Fleur tried to throw her legs wider, to get Faith just a little deeper inside her before she-"

"_FLEUR! Oh damn, baby I'm so inside of you, it's so good inside of you…"_ Faith opened her eyes, and as the shuddering racked her body she saw Fleur's head fly back, the tendons on her neck standing out and her eyes snapping open, the golden eyes of a bird of prey. Faith's brown eyes blazed at the look of pain on the face of her lover, unaware that the look mirrored her own, and she died inside of Fleur.

"Now, I am healed," whispered Fleur into Faith's ear as she clung to her. All Faith could manage was a smile, but it was a very nice smile, and it sufficed.


	5. Chapter 5

These characters belong to JK Rowling and Joss Whedon

My thanks to those of you who have reviewed, they are appreciated.

"A Gift of Faith"

A/N: I had breaks for scene changes, but they keep vanishing. I tried again. Several times. I hope I got it done even if it's not elegant.

XXXXXX

Hermione and Buffy appeared in the sitting room of the Slayers' residence; no one was present.

"Where is everyone?" asked Hermione.

"I'd bet Giles and Willow are in the library, dunno about the rest. Let's go see," replied Buffy, and she led the way to the library. Giles and Willow were indeed there. "What's the sitch?" Buffy greeted them.

"Well it does appear possible that Nicodemus did indeed survive," Giles explained, "he was trapped in a barn and the mob burned it down around him and assumed they had killed him."

"And when you assume, you make your ass into a happy meal for a Vamp," Buffy said grimly.

"Colorfully put, but correct in essence, yes," confirmed Giles. "There are ripples running through tales of slaughter that indicate the presence of a sort of 'Master Vampire' that all of the others, even quite notorious ones, paid homage to."

"I wish we could ask Angel," Willow said sadly.

"Me too," agreed Buffy, "but we haven't heard from him since that Apocalypse in LA."

"Who is Angel," asked Hermione, "and what do you mean by 'that' Apocalypse?"

"Angel is, or perhaps _was_, sad to say, a vampire with a soul," explained Giles, "and Apocalypse is something that pops up now and again, it seems."

"Angel was Buffy's sweetie, until they got frisky and he lost his soul, but then he got it back right before Buffy killed him to stop _that_ Apocalypse. Then he came back. Then he moved to LA, right after he helped us stop the Mayor from pulling off another Apocalypse. We saw him a few times after that, and before Buffy died stopping an Apocalypse, and then after Buffy came back we used to hear from him now and then even after Spike died stopping an Apocalypse and in the process destroyed the Hellmouth and Sunnydale along with it. Then he got tied up with this evil law firm and they brought Spike back but by then we weren't in touch very often and the last we heard of him he and a blue goddess and Spike and a couple others had a kind of mini-Apocalypse in LA and we haven't heard from him since," said Willow.

Hermione turned to Giles, a desperate look on her face.

"All true, I assure you," he told her.

"I caught hints of that when I shared with her, but I assumed they were nightmares," said Hermione.

"Apocalypse is just another day to a Slayer," said Buffy cheerfully. "So what do we do now?"

"We've stepped up patrols in all areas, particularly around your residence, Hermione. It seems likely that Nicodemus will strike again. I suppose the death of Kakistos has enraged him enough to cause him to abandon over 500 years of dwelling in the shadows," Giles answered. "I do hope you agree with that, Buffy. I thought it best to move quickly."

"Sounds like a plan to me. You do know that you don't have to clear everything with me first, right Giles?" asked Buffy.

"You are the leader of the Slayers, Buffy. I do what I can, but the girls all look to you for guidance." Hermione cast an appraising eye on the tiny blonde, a glance that Willow caught and correctly interpreted.

"Buffy is like the Slaymaster General," Willow confirmed.

"Only because you keep bringing me back from the dead," demurred Buffy.

"Raising the dead isn't something that's often done," began Hermione, "in fact…"

"I know that now," promised Willow, "honest."

"Very well, but I really want to get you to Olympe as soon as we can," Hermione told her. There was a question on Willow's face that Buffy answered.

"Olympe is the half-giant Headmistress of the Beauxbatons Academy of magic. She taught Fleur," Buffy supplied.

"An Academy of Magic!" squeaked Willow.

"Yes, I think you should meet with her, Willow," Hermione told her. Your progress and power is remarkable, but it has been dangerous to you and others. Olympe can help you harness your power, and perhaps more importantly, help you understand what of the power is your own, and what is channeled from other sources. She can help you have fun with your magic without harming yourself or anyone else. And I know that your experiences will fascinate her. Also," added Hermione with a twinkle in her eyes, "she will see that you get your wand."

"Can I?" Willow asked Giles and Buffy.

"It's hardly up to us," said Giles, grinning at her excitement. "But I think it an excellent idea. Especially if it keeps you from going all black-eyed and veiny again, that is simply not a good look for you."

"Go, Will," insisted Buffy, "I'm sure Hermione will have a way for you to keep in touch with us, and from what I've seen travel won't be a problem either."

"Indeed it won't," assured Hermione, "it will take a little while to set up, but I can guarantee you'll be admitted, Willow." Willow beamed, her joy shining from her entire body. "Buffy, I need to talk with you about Faith. Is there somewhere we can speak privately?"

"Sure, my room. Giles, can you spare me for a while?"

"Buffy, we are doing research, of course we can spare you," laughed Giles, "we'll let you know when we have enough information for you to formulate a plan."

"Cool, come on Hermione," Buffy led the way to the staircase.

"I do hope Hermione isn't harboring resentment about Buffy stabbing Faith," mumbled Giles, a look of concern on his face.

"No, I'm sure it isn't that. She probably just wants to ask about Faith's past. I wish you had seen the three of them together Giles. You wouldn't have recognized Faith at all. She's actually happy," Willow assured him.

"Thank God, the things that poor child went through…" Giles said softly, shaking his head. "Now then, let's get back to it before I lose you to this half-giant woman, shall we?"

"What a lovely room," said Hermione as she and Buffy entered the latter's bedroom.

"I'm not here enough to mess it up," explained Buffy.

"Who's the pretty redhead in that picture with you?"

"That's Dawn, my sister. Actually, she's a key. Well, she was, but the second time I died fixed that, so now she's just a person. She's in school back in the States, staying with one an old friend of the family. I know that didn't make a lot of sense," Buffy ended apologetically.

"I'll just take it that she's your sister," agreed Hermione.

"So what did you want to say about Faith?"

"I wanted to thank you for stabbing her, actually," said Hermione, smiling.

"Come again?" Buffy asked, bewildered.

"I certainly plan to," agreed Hermione as she slowly unbuttoned her robes. "You stopped her from a course of action that would have destroyed her before she found out who she really was," Hermione said as the robes fell open. She shrugged them off and they fell to the floor. "She loved you even as you stabbed her, even as she fought to kill you. We talked at the hospital, and she told me about it. She still loves you, she thinks of you as her big sister."

Buffy listened, surprised by what Hermione was saying, but much more interested at the moment in the fact that Hermione was now unbuttoning her blouse. She swallowed loudly.

"Now is the time to say stop, if you want me to, Buffy. I'm not teasing now. For any number of reasons, I want you. Faith and Fleur know this, and have no objection. I hope you aren't shocked or offended. But it is not our way to hide feelings." The unbuttoning continued, Buffy's face was flushed, and her breathing was rapid. Hermione pulled the blouse from the waistband of her skirt, leaving it hanging open, the swell of her uncovered breasts visible. "Shall I stop?"

"Please don't," whispered Buffy, "I, I'm not sure what to do, though."

Hermione stared at her, and let the blouse fall to the floor, "It will work itself out, I promise," Hermione told her as she caressed her breasts. She unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it, standing before the stunned Slayer in a pair of red bikini briefs and a smile. "Come here, Buffy, I believe you have something in mind already." Buffy stepped up to her, she was a few inches shorter than Hermione, and it seemed quite natural for her to lower her head just that little bit more and take one of Hermione's already hardened nipples into her mouth. Hermione slid her fingers into the blonde hair and pulled Buffy to her, a sigh breathing from her lips.

Buffy softly sucked, and then, inspired by the murmurs of pleasure from Hermione, she took the nipple in her teeth and pulled gently. She was rewarded by a hiss of pleasure from Hermione, and a whispered, "Harder." Buffy bit down a touch more, pulling her head back and letting the little rubbery nub scrape through her teeth. She stood and brought her lips to Hermione's, her hands sliding around her waist and down to her bottom while Hermione softly nibbled Buffy's lower lip. Buffy's eyes closed as she squeezed Hermione's ass and pulled their lower bodies together.

"I told you it would work itself out," Hermione whispered to her as she nuzzled her neck. "Just do what you feel." Buffy dropped to her knees and kissed all along the waistband of the red bikini, and then ran her tongue beneath it. She looked up into the brown eyes of the witch before her.

"Since I saw you naked with Faith, I have wanted to do just this," she told Hermione, and she lowered her mouth to the cloth-covered pussy in front of her and pressed her tongue firmly against Hermione's moistening crevice, the powerful muscle wedging the cloth firmly between the fleshy lips. She then licked softly at the now exposed labia, at last sucking the warm flesh into her mouth. Hermione began to rock her hips, pulling Buffy's head into her crotch at the same time. She shifted one leg aside, granting better access.

Hermione felt a soft snap on one hip, and then the slayer was peeling the cloth from her, removing the last obstruction to her probing tongue as it slid between Hermione's lips and curled upwards. "You taste so good, Hermione," panted Buffy as she sucked eagerly at the juices now flowing in earnest from the brunette.

"Thank you," gasped Hermione, "please help yourself." Buffy slid a finger into her, and marveled at the slick hotness that clung to her finger as she began to slowly slide it in and out while she massaged Hermione's clit with her tongue. "I'm going to fall," moaned Hermione, and Buffy lifted her with one arm about her waist and carried her to the bed without removing the finger from her. Once she had Hermione safely there, she added a second finger, and resumed her attentions to Hermione's clit. Her head spinning from the transport, Hermione threw her legs as wide as she could and fisted her hands in the bedcovers. "Yeessssssssss," she hissed, "faster."

Buffy obliged; she was completely overwhelmed by sensations, the feel of Hermione's inner self, the taste of her, the scent, the sound, all of it, had reduced the world to the woman writhing under her tongue and fingers. She felt Hermione's body grow rigid, she heard her breath coming in ragged gasps, she felt Hermione's hips jerking desperately, and then she felt her fingers squeezed tightly in a pulsing grip of heated velvet as Hermione exhaled explosively and hot wetness spilled over her hand.

Buffy laid her cheek against Hermione's throbbing sex, and slowly licked her glistening fingers. After a moment, she felt Hermione's hand stroking her hair, and then the hand closed, and pulled her upwards.

_"Kiss me, Slayer,"_ commanded Hermione, _"and then submit."_

_XXXXXXX_

Fleur opened her eyes to find Faith staring into them, the brown eyes brimming with tears.

"What ees wrong, ma belle Faith?" she whispered.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. That's why I'm crying," Faith answered in wonder. "You _really do_ love me. You and 'Mione really love me." Fleur smiled.

"Oui. C'est vraiment, zee secret is out. We do indeed love you. We know you and we love you."

"But, there are things you don't know about, things I've done –"

"Stop. It does not matter to us, cherie. If you want to tell us of these things, do so. It will make no difference in our love; if you do not, zen do not," Fleur shrugged as only a Frenchwoman could. "As you said, we love you, and zat is all zere is to it."

"I've never really been loved before, it's scary," admitted Faith.

"Oui, it can be, it is so large a thing," agreed Fleur, "now zere is somezing to lose, more zan just yourself in peril when you fight, as you must. It is part of who you are, and part of why we love you, do you see?"

"I'd give it up for you, the slaying," Faith said quietly.

"We would never ask you to, Faith. We shall however, take a more active role in support of you. And speaking of zat, 'ow do you feel? Down zere, I mean," Fleur asked, her gaze straying below Faith's stomach.

"Sore," admitted Faith.

"Zere are potions zat will help, I shall fetch zem," Fleur said, and she made to rise from the bed, only to find herself firmly held in Faith's grasp.

"No," said Faith, "this pain I love. This pain I will treasure until it is gone, and I will always carry the memory of being inside of you. I'm not sure I'd want to do it again, though, or need to."

Fleur relaxed back into the bed, and kissed Faith's eyes. "Non, it was precious, and I too will remember it always. Some zings are too perfect to repeat."

Faith drifted back to sleep in Fleur's arms, feeling the beat of the other woman's heart, feeling cared for, feeling loved, feeling the perfect ache between her legs, and knowing true contentment for the first time in her life. But not for the last.

XXXXXX

Buffy had never known such agony in her life. No Vampire, no Demon, no Hell-God, had ever reduced her to the state of desperation that the naked witch before her had done. Never.

And she had done it with swans down. It began like this…

"Remove your clothing," Hermione had told her, and Buffy, her face still shining and her fingers still remembering the heated squeeze they had received, had complied. Hermione watched Buffy with studied indifference as she undressed, idly running her hands over her own body. Soon enough, Buffy stood naked beside the bed, she was as nervous as she had ever been.

"You are positively _delicious-looking_," purred Hermione as she rose to her feet. "Lie face down on the bed."

Buffy did, and the nervousness was accompanied by an eager anticipation.

"I promise not to harm you," Hermione said sincerely, "but for this time if never again, you are mine to do with as I will. Do you agree?"

An eager "yes", sprang from Buffy's lips before her brain had even registered the question properly, and she felt her arms and legs extended wide by a force that she could not resist, even had it occurred to her to do so. She felt the bed shift as Hermione climbed onto it, she felt Hermione's hands lift her hair off of her neck, and then she felt the softest of touches on the back of her neck, a teasing flicker almost not there at all.

"Close your eyes Buffy," came the soft voice, and again she obeyed instantly and the almost-touch fluttered across her closed eyes. It brushed her throat and then danced across her shoulders, leaving a ghost of itself behind. The touch flitted over her fingertips and swirled in her palm before skittering up her arm and then down her side. A sigh passed Buffy's lips as the softer than soft caress swirled over her shoulder blades and then down her other arm, only to return to the base of her neck and bestow a series of grazing touches that soon had her shivering in anticipation.

The tiny blonde could still taste the woman doing this to her, and her brain ran riot with things she wanted done. And all the while the gossamer touch played with her nude body, sometimes so soft that she might have imagined it. Hermione remained silent, but Buffy could feel the heat of her body close to her, just the warmth, for Hermione's skin did not touch hers, and soon Buffy craved the touch of the other woman more than air.

The softness trailed down her spine, leaving gooseflesh in its path. It danced in the dimples at the small of her back and then fled back up her ribs. It might have tickled, she supposed, but she had no desire to laugh. Her skin tingled in anticipation as the fluttering returned to the center of her back and began to trail slowly downward. It briefly touched the cleft of her buttocks and then jumped instantly back to her neck. The muscles in her bottom clenched tightly in disappointment, only to feel the touch swoop down the full length of the divide between the taut muscles an instant later. She gasped, and the touch disappeared.

"Please," whispered Buffy.

"I do hope to," Hermione assured her, and the almost intangible caress fluttered down Buffy's outstretched leg and over the tips of her toes. It jumped across to her other foot, and then began to trail with inexorable deliberation up the inside of that leg. Over the swell of the calf, coming to rest behind her knee, where the touch grew heavier, brushing the tender flesh for a long moment before resuming its upward progress.

The fire that had started in Buffy when Hermione had loosened the first button was now raging through her entire body. Her nerves sang, her muscles quivered, and as the touch neared the top of her inner thigh she tried as hard as she could to open her legs further, but she could not move. She could feel the lips of her pussy swell further in anticipation of the touch, and she drew an expectant breath. The barest ghost of something grazed her desperate heat and then was gone.

"No!" she moaned, and she felt the grip on her limbs relax.

"On your back," Hermione told her, Buffy rolled over and felt her limbs seized once more by the irresistible force, and she kept her eyes closed tightly of her own volition.

The fluttering caress returned, lightly tickled her navel, and then slowly started downward. Buffy moaned aloud as the touch neared her pussy, and she bit her lips in anticipation.

The touch fluttered across her eyes, and the ache between her legs grew.

XXXXXX

Faith and Fleur had awakened, bathed, eaten a light meal and were now cuddled up on the couch listening to guitar music.

"Gabby's birthday is coming up, right?" asked Faith.

"Oui, three weeks from today," Fleur confirmed.

"I think we should invite Giles and Buffy. Would your Mom be okay with that?"

"I'm sure she would; do you 'ave a particular reason for zis?"

"A couple of them, really. Giles needs to get out of that house, being a surrogate Dad to a few dozen hyper chicks is wearing him down. I'd like to get him away for a while. I know he'd love your Mom's estate, too."

"Bon, he ees really a very nice man. Maman would enjoy 'is company I zink. But zat ees only one reason," Fleur responded.

"Right. Let's just say I've got a strong vibe about Gabrielle and Buffy, I'd kind of like to see what brews up between those two," said Faith, an evil grin on her face.

"Matchmaking for my sister, Faith?" asked Fleur with an arched brow.

"That's up to them. I just want to see what happens when two hot little blondes meet each other, especially now since Buffy has discovered her feminine side." Fleur grinned too.

"Oui. I 'ope 'Ermione does not scare her to death."

XXXXXX

The ghost caress passed over Buffy's nipples, and the touch, soft as it was, was nearly painful. Buffy's breath hissed through her teeth. It fluttered across her chest, a phantom trail down the length or her outstretched arm, only to jump back to the hollow of her throat and from there begin a slow progress down her body.

It passed between her breasts, and the pressure increased as it descended, not gossamer now, tender, but insistent. The muscles of her belly quivered as it slowly brushed past her navel, she quivered in desire as it moved slowly lower, closer, now so very close to the wet-aching core of her need.

The touch vanished, and Buffy felt the grasp on her head and neck relax. For a moment she was afraid that it was over, that Hermione was done with her.

But then…

"OOooohhhhhhh," groaned Buffy as she felt the most marvelous heat enveloping her sex, it was warm, it was wet, it was soft, and best of all it was pressing on her clitoris with a very real pressure. "Oh God 'Mione, that's…" Whatever it was, it robbed Buffy of speech.

Buffy whimpered in ecstasy as her clit was gently drawn between soft lips and sucked softly while Hermione's tongue flickered over it. "Yes!" she gasped as she felt Hermione's fingers enter her at last, curling, stroking deep inside of her. Buffy strained to rise to meet the fingers within her, but she still could not move. Hermione responded, however, she sucked harder on Buffy's clit, added another finger, and began to thrust those fingers strongly into the Slayer.

Buffy gasped again when a breast was firmly cupped in a warm hand, the thumb of which was toying delightfully with the nipple, no teasing touch now, but purposeful. The fire raging within Buffy was rising, a torrent of flame poised as a forest fire on the verge of crowning. The pressure building, building, holding just on the edge, and then –

The hand vanished from her breast, the delightful pressure on her clit ceased and cool air intruded, she desperately tried to hold on to the fingers within her, but they too receded and she felt the hold on her body relax.

"Open your eyes," commanded Hermione softly. Buffy did, and they grew wide at what they saw.

Hermione was kneeling between her widespread thighs, her face covered in Buffy. Hermione's hand, fingers shining with wetness was making its way between Hermione's legs. The fingers slid into Hermione, and the brown eyes fluttered closed for a moment. Wetter than before, the fingers emerged and rose to Hermione's lips, adding to wetness there before disappearing into her mouth. Hermione extended the hand towards Buffy.

"Choose," she said, indicating by glance the extended hand and her other hand, which was holding what Buffy recognized as a strap-on. Buffy recalled the marvelous feeling of Hermione's tongue and fingers, and almost chose to have that back. But then she imagined the feel of Hermione's body pressing on hers, the warmth, the taste of Hermione's mouth on hers, the feel of their tongues together, the fullness as Hermione thrust into her. Her eyes locked on the hand holding the equipment.

"Fuck me," she answered.

In a magically-aided instant Hermione had the device in place, and she lowered her mouth to Buffy's. Buffy could taste herself as well as Hermione, the heady mixture making her head swim. Buffy guided the dildo to her entrance, and three things happened at once.

Hermione's tongue pushed into Buffy's mouth, her body molded to Buffy's, all warmth and soft woman, and smoothly the dildo slid into her.

Buffy writhed beneath her, trying to gain maximum contact, and Hermione's hips began to pump. Long, slow, powerful strokes that welded them together as they kissed, Buffy plunged her fingers into the thick brown hair and wrapped her legs around Hermione, pulling them together fiercely.

The fire raged within them both, and Buffy's fingers raked Hermione's back as Hermione rose on her hands, adding to the pressure of their joining. Buffy watched enthralled as Hermione's breasts swayed in front of her, shining with sweat from them both, and she took them in her hands and squeezed, rewarded by a low moan from Hermione.

Both of them were struggling for air, Hermione collapsed onto Buffy, their mouths once more joining as Hermione's hips thrust rapidly. A wet slapping sound filled the room. "Yes, oh yes, yes, yes!" groaned Buffy, twisting her fingers in Hermione's hair and rising to meet her. "Almost there, almost there, al-, al-"

With a growl, Hermione slammed hard into Buffy, holding their groins together and grinding fiercely as she sucked Buffy's tongue deep into her mouth.

The fire crowned. It raced along the treetops of the forest and set the whole thing ablaze in an instant. "AAaaahhhhh! Oh God, Hermione, yesssss!" gasped Buffy as her body went rigid, trembling violently beneath the sweating witch.

"Yes indeed," purred Hermione against the neck of the small woman beneath her. "Yes, indeed."

XXXXXX

The weeks following Hermione's encounter with Buffy were extremely busy ones.

Fleur had dispatched an owl to her mother, seeking permission to bring two guests to Gabrielle's party. Gabrielle had requested that things be kept simple; she had enough of company at University. Fleur was sure, however, that Giles and Buffy would make welcome guests, as she had spent a fair bit of time in their company, as had Hermione. A gracious and affirmative reply had been returned promptly, along with the instruction that they would all spend the night there. There was plenty of room, and Madame Delacour had not had much company since the passing of her husband, Gerard.

Willow had been admitted to Beauxbatons, and she and Olympe were getting along famously. Olympe had never before met a Wicca with the power that Willow wielded which both fascinated and frightened her. Willow had grown accustomed to calling on the power of ancient Goddesses for her magic, an abundant source to be sure, but one could never really rely on a Goddess not to have a hidden agenda.

Willow was learning to work with her own magic more effectively, it having been discovered that she was a true Muggle-born witch like Hermione. Growing up on the Hellmouth had screened her emergence from the recruiters of the North American Academies, something Olympe planned to twit them about at the next international conference.

The wand that chose Willow was, fittingly, a willow-wand. Ten inches long and quite supple, Willow was delighted that the wand's core was a Veela hair. Her progress, not surprisingly, was rapid, and Madame Maxime was quite proud of her new pupil. Willow had a special portkey to travel to and from school with, as well as a private mirror-pair with Kennedy, so the couple could talk and visit easily.

Hermione had seen to it that all of the Slayers had mirrors to communicate with, as they were more reliable than cell phones. That had also resulted in a substantial savings, which tickled Giles no end. The Slayers all had bracelets that were emergency portkeys that would take them directly to a special ward at the hospital in case of injury. Simone Belvoir, the tall, redheaded healer so taken with Faith, was head of the Slayer Medical Department. It had been decided after testing that Slayers were "Magical Creatures", and were therefore entitled to treatment.

Healer Belvoir, and not a few of the Slayers, had been absolutely delighted with this arrangement.

The Ministries of Magic throughout the world hastened to put provisions in place for their new magical sisters. The influence of Fleur's family name sped things through the French Ministry quite easily, and the others had seen fit to keep pace. For a time Buffy and Giles found themselves acting as ambassadors, and had nearly overcome their discomfort with Apparition.

And so it was that the evening of the party found them quite ready for the event. Buffy had on a long sleeveless gown the color of Dutch Irises, while Giles had opted for a traditional black tux. When Faith, Fleur, and Hermione arrived to take them to the party, the admiration had been mutual. Neither Giles nor Buffy had ever seen Faith in a formal gown, and the effect was profound. Faith's dress, fittingly, was the color of blood, as was her lipstick. She wore no jewelry, nor needed any. Hermione's gown was black, with a single sleeve; a strand of pearls graced her neck. Fleur was in silver-gray, and diamonds sparkled in her ears.

A low whistle came from Faith.

"Damn, G-man, you clean up nice!" she said, not really in jest.

"Thank you, Faith. And may I say I've never seen you look lovelier, nor your beautiful companions. I am indeed a fortunate man this evening."

"Buffy looks simply delicieux," Fleur whispered to Hermione.

"Oh, she is," Hermione whispered back.

"Let's get this show on the road then," said Faith. "Who takes who?"

"I will take Rupairt," answered Fleur, " 'Ermione will take you and Buffy."

"That does sound like fun," Hermione said. Buffy blushed prettily, and Faith's laughter was cut off by Apparition.

By arrangement, they had Apparated to a hilltop some distance from the house, though mansion might have been a more accurate designation. From the hilltop, the sprawling vineyards could be seen, and the sparkle of the river that provided irrigation.

"Holy shit!" exclaimed Buffy.

"Quite," agreed Giles as he soaked in the beauty before him. "What a perfectly beautiful place. Fleur, your home is magnificent."

"Zank you Rupairt, Faith thought you would like it."

Buffy discretely flashed Faith a thumbs-up.

"Do you want to walk from here, or shall we Apparate?" Hermione asked.

"Walk, please," answered Giles instantly, "the air here is a positive tonic!"

The walk was pleasant in the cool evening, and their ring at the door was promptly answered.

"So nice to see you again, Mistress Fleur," said the by-God English butler, "Madame asks that you wait for them in the sitting room." Fleur kissed the butler on each cheek.

"It is mervelieux to see you again Jeeves," said Fleur. "I know zee way." Jeeves bowed deeply, and slid elegantly away. "Papa always said zat only zee English were proper butlers. Follow me, s'il vous plait."

The sitting room proved to be large and comfortable, with wide windows overlooking the vineyard though the view was fading with the setting of the sun. Giles stood entranced, watching the sun gilding the vines until Jeeves announced formally…

"Madame Appoline Delacour and Mademoiselle Gabrielle Delacour."

Giles turned to greet his hostesses, and found himself robbed of breath.

Buffy had been talking with the other women, who had decided to allow Giles to soak up the view in peace. She too turned at the butler's proclamation, and felt lightning shoot through her body.

Madame Delacour was tall and elegant, her face having the same fine structure as her daughters. Her gown was silver and displayed her lovely shoulders to advantage. Sapphires gleamed at her throat. Gabrielle was wearing a blue gown precisely the color of her eyes, like Faith, she neither wore nor needed any adornment. She was much shorter than either her mother or her sister, but her height in no way took away from her elegance. Even in this company, Gabrielle shone.

"Mere, Gabrielle, zese are our friends, Buffy Summers, and Monsieur Rupairt Giles."

"I am delighted to meet you both," said Fleur's mother. "I have heard much of you from Fleur and her partners. Be welcome in my home." Fleur's mother had only the barest trace of an accent.

"Pleasedtomeetyou," said Buffy through lips gone numb. She could not take her eyes off of Gabrielle, who was equally open in her regard of Buffy.

Faith was just about ready to cover for Giles, sure that his awkwardness around women would prostrate him in the presence of this pair. Giles, however, rose to the occasion.

"I am deeply honored to meet you both, and I beg you each to call me Rupert. Up until this moment, Madame Delacour, I had intended to tell you that your daughter Fleur was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, as a compliment. However I find that I can no longer in good conscience do so."

Madame Delacour inclined her head in reply. "I understand, Rupert, Gabrielle is a striking young woman, it is a difficult choice to make, should one have to choose."

"Indeed, Gabrielle is lovely, but it was not she who forced me to revise my opinion."

Faith and Buffy's jaws dropped. Not only was Giles not stuttering, he was positively _gallant_!

"Please do me the honor of calling me Apolline, Rupert," responded Fleur's mother. "I thank you for the compliment, but I fear that you exaggerate."

Giles took a long step to her and gently raised her hand to his lips. "Not in the slightest."

"Down boy," called Faith, but she was grinning as she said it. Giles blushed, but he didn't apologize. Apparently he meant it.

"Let us have some wine before dinner, shall we?" asked Apolline. The tension broke, and after the first glass of the excellent Delacour wine, Buffy was able to speak coherently. The conversation grew easy, and Giles and Buffy felt at home in the beautiful room.

"Fleur tells me you are also a Slayer, Buffy," said Gabrielle.

"Buffy is _the_ Slayer," corrected Faith. "She's been on the job longer than all of the rest of us. Vampires have been known to self-destruct at the sight of her." Gabrielle raised an eyebrow.

"But she ees so small," protested Gabrille.

"No smaller than you, shorty," teased Faith. "Stand beside each other and we'll see." Side by side the resemblance was remarkable, they were identical in height, eye color, and even builds, though Gabrielle's hair was silver where Buffy's was gold.

"Remarkable," said Giles, "forgive me Gabrielle, but are you an athlete?"

"Gabrielle is zee European Collegiate dueling Champion," supplied Fleur proudly.

"Indeed!" exclaimed Giles, "foils, I assume?"

"Wands," corrected Gabrielle, "although zee forms are similar."

"Dinner is served," intoned Jeeves from the doorway. Giles offered his arm to Appoline, Gabrielle appropriated Buffy's arm, and Fleur, Faith, and Hermione were left to find their own way to the dining room.

"Damn," said Faith, "sparks much?"

"Zis should be an interesting visit," Fleur said as she took her lovers by the hands and lead them to dinner.

The dinner was superb by any standard, and the Delacour vintages on offer were without peer. By the end of the meal, everyone was comfortable with everyone else, a fact emphasized when Fleur's mother said to Jeeves…

"We shall have after-dinner drinks in the family room, I think, Jeeves."

"Very good, Madame," replied Jeeves.

"_Zut!"_ thought Fleur and Gabrielle. Guests were almost never invited to the family room, and surely not on a first visit.

The room was as beautiful as any at the manor, but it did have a homey feel to it, as if the room retained the memory of many evenings of quiet joy. There was a large fireplace casting a warm glow over the room, and soon everyone was seated comfortably enjoying some very fine cognac. Giles felt his gaze drawn to a corner, where a stand held a guitar that was clearly a remarkable instrument.

"Do you play guitar, Fleur?" he asked, his eyes on the instrument.

"Non, zat was Papa's guitar, 'ee used to play for us after dinner," Fleur's eyes misted at the memory, as did those of the other two Delacour women, but the memory was a happy one.

"Giles plays a mean guitar," offered Buffy.

"Sure does," Faith agreed.

"Fleur, kindly fetch Papa's guitar for Rupert," instructed Appoline, "I beg you to play for us, this room has been too long without music." Giles swallowed, it was of course impossible to refuse such a request, but he felt as if he had overstepped. Fleur presented the guitar to him, and he took it with reverent hands. The instrument was superb, Giles felt the music in it simply holding it in his hands, and he had a true musician's regard for a thing such as this.

"This is an extraordinary instrument," he said in hushed tones, "I've never held one to match it."

"It was given to my husband by his teacher, there is an inscription on the front," answered Appoline.

Giles found it soon enough, the words standing out on the softly glowing wood,_ "To Gerard, remember always to file your nails – Andres Segovia."_

"Segovia!" gasped Giles. "I cannot possibly play this guitar; it is much too fine for me."

"Rather say that it is much too fine _not_ to play, Rupert. It wants to be played, and deserves to be. Fine things should be appreciated, and used well." Giles could find no argument for that, and he bent his head over the glorious thing while he composed his mind and stretched his fingers.

After a few experimental cords, a beautiful and simple melody came from the guitar, "Greensleeves". The women listened in rapt silence.

"More," insisted Gabrielle, and Giles, transported by the magnificence of the instrument and the beauty of his audience, played on. Folk music, rock music, sometimes accompanied by his rich voice, sometimes music alone. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he played, conscious as he was that he might never again play a guitar so fine, nor in such company, nor in such a splendid place.

"We should get to bed," said Fleur reluctantly, much later.

"Oui," agreed Gabrielle, "zank you, Rupairt, for zee wonderful music, almost I feel as if Papa is with us. Buffy, may I show you to your room?" Buffy, still floating from the bliss of the evening, simply took Gabrielle's hand and nodded a goodnight to the others.

Fleur stood, as did Faith and Hermione, and they each kissed Apolline before they turned to face Giles.

"Jeeves can show Rupert to his room, my doves," said Appoline. "Might I impose upon you for an encore, Rupert?"

"My endless pleasure," he answered, "good night girls," he said to the trio, "we old folk don't need much sleep." The three of them climbed the stairs, from below they heard faintly a familiar tune, and then Giles's voice floated to their ears…

"_If I leave here tomorrow, will you still remember me…"_

Faith, Fleur, and Hermione drifted softly off to sleep to the music from below, and if in the morning there were two guest beds that seemed unused, the elves were too discreet to mention it.

A/N: Lyric from 'Freebird' – Lynard Skynard


	6. Chapter 6

Summary:Declarations are made, scores are settled

Warnings:References to torture, non-con, chan, not explicit or in detail. Some Girlsex, some language, some violence.

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling and Joss Wheedon

A/N: Not too smutty, but things happen. I appreciate the notices and favorites, thank you, and please don't be shy if you enjoy this.

**"An Act of Faith"**

The morning found Faith, Fleur, and Hermione entering the dining room together. Apolline and Rupert were already there, sipping coffee. Each of the young women greeted Fleur's mother with a kiss before taking their seats. Jeeves appeared with cups for each of them.

"Breakfast will be served in fifteen minutes," Jeeves told them as he poured.

"Did you sleep well, my darlings?" asked Apolline.

"Oui Maman," replied Fleur, "it is good to be 'ome."

"You know that you need not leave," suggested Apolline, "none of you."

"Oui Maman, we know it, but we have things we must do."

"As you wish, ma belle Fleur," Apolline smiled. She knew Fleur had her own way to go in life, but she could not help but wish that she and the two women in her life would stay. She was a mother.

"Anybody seen Gabby or Buffy this morning?" asked Faith.

"No," answered Giles, stifling a yawn. "I beg your pardon ladies," he asked, blushing.

"Didn't you sleep well, Rupert?" asked Hermione.

"I am afraid I kept Rupert up rather late last night," confessed Apolline. "It was such a joy to hear music again." Giles blushed deeply; mercifully none of the women commented, but Fleur did kick Faith lightly under the table when she saw the twinkle in her eyes.

"Shall I go and fetch Gabrielle and Buffy?" offered Hermione.

"No need," replied Gabrielle as she led Buffy through the wide doors from the patio into the dining room. "We've been up for ages; I wanted Buffy to see the sunrise over the vineyards."

"It is so beautiful here, Madame Delacour," Buffy told her, "thank you for having me as a guest in your home."

"You are most welcome, Buffy. A friend of my daughter's is always welcome here."

"Zank you, Tante Faith, for zee marvelous birthday gift," Gabrielle told her.

"Gift? What do you – oh!" Faith's face split in a huge grin, and it was Buffy's turn to blush.

"Mere, may Buffy stay a few days more? Zere are still some things I want to show her before I return to school."

"You know you don't have to ask, Gabrielle, this is your home. Buffy may stay as long as you like."

"Giles, if this is a bad time, I could come back," began Buffy.

"There has never been a time less bad, I think," answered Giles. "We shall proceed with our investigations, and thanks to Fleur and Hermione we can communicate with you quite readily. By all means stay and enjoy yourself."

Inside her heart, Faith was doing cartwheels of joy.

After breakfast, they all took a stroll through the vineyards, admiring the plump grapes glistening with dew. Giles found himself momentarily alone with Fleur.

"I wonder if you could take me home when the time comes, Fleur," he asked her.

"Eet would be my pleasure, Rupairt," she answered him.

"Would anyone care to go horseback riding?" came the sound of Apolline's voice from the next row over.

"Horses too?" asked Giles, Fleur nodded. "Why would anyone ever leave this place?"

"There are things in zee world zat need doing," replied Fleur with a shrug, "you of all people know zis."

"Indeed," replied Giles, and he offered his arm to Fleur. They quickly caught up with the rest, and late morning found the whole party wandering the banks of the river on horses.

"Are you having fun, Buffy?" asked Gabrielle.

"Loads! I've never ridden before, and it's so beautiful here," she replied.

"Thank you, and I'm glad you enjoy riding. We can do it all you like while you're here."

_"I have GOT to stop blushing,"_ the Slayer commanded herself.

"I like the way you think," replied Gabrielle with a grin. The blush deepened.

"We should 'ead back, I'm afraid," announced Fleur, "lunch weel soon be ready, and we must get back to Paris."

The party turned for home, and in the manner of horses the world over, the beasts needed no guidance to find their stables. Lunch was indeed ready on their return, and if a couple of them were sitting gingerly at table no one mentioned it. Except Gabrielle, in a whisper.

_"We will do somezing about zee soreness after your friends leave, chere Buffy."_

"You okay Buff? You're kind of red, get too much sun?" asked Faith.

"Yeah, sun; too much," answered Buffy, nodding vigorously.

Lunch was soon consumed, and departure could be postponed no longer.

"I thank you again for invitng me into your home, Apolline," Giles told her as he took her hand, "and for allowing me to play that marvelous guitar, I have never held its match before."

"You are welcome here at any time, Rupert, and your playing did it justice. For that, I thank you."

Many cheeks were kissed, and Faith and Hermione Apparated home while Fleur took Giles back to the Slayer headquarters.

XXX

"A word before you go, please, Fleur…"

"But of course, Rupairt," replied Fleur, and she assumed a listening attitude.

"I was wondering, that is, if you've no objections… oh, _blast,_ I'm stammering like a schoolboy." He drew in a huge breath. "Fleur, I was wondering if you would have any objections to my courting your mother." Fleur smiled hugely.

"Zat is of course, up to Maman," Giles brow knitted, "but as you ask, I 'ave no objections at all," his face cleared.

"Oh thank God! And you too of course, it's just that I've never met a woman like your Mother, and I don't want to make a mess of things."

"Just be yourself, Rupairt. I shall tell Maman that I 'ave given you my permission to court her," Fleur said with a twinkle in her eyes. "Of course you know that my Veela blood comes from my muzzer, so…"

"Quite, but even aside from that, she's an extraordinary woman, I have never half so much enjoyed someone's company before."

"Maman must have been impressed with you too; else she would never 'ave let you touch zee guitar. I should go now, and I thank you for your concern for my feelings. I am so glad that you enjoyed your visit, we shall do eet again, au'voir."

Fleur disappeared, and Giles wandered over to his chair, where he sat with his eyes closed and a beatific expression on his face.

"Such a _marvelous_ instrument," he murmured to himself.

XXXX

"Soak in zee 'ot tub for a while, Buffy, zen I will rub zis cream on your sore places, it is a Veela concoction, and very effective."

"Gabby, you DO know what the sore places are, right?" asked Buffy.

"I do indeed, and I want to know zem much better, n'est ce pas?"

"Are you this shy with all the girls?"

"Non, but I know what I want, and I want you, do you see?"

"But Fleur –"

"Weel understand perfectly. She told me zat Faith 'ad a feeling about us, I too, 'ave a feeling about us."

"There seems to be a good deal of feeling us going around, why don't you get in the tub too, so I can get some feeling of my own done, or are you just teasing the Slayer?"

"Non," said Gabrielle huskily as she peeled off her clothes. "No teasing zis time." She climbed into the hot tub and took Buffy's face in her hands, staring deeply into the eyes so like her own. "No teasing," she breathed as her lips touched Buffy's. "No teasing," she repeated as she wrapped her legs around the hips of the woman she desired. "No teasing," she breathed as she nuzzled Buffy's neck, nibbling softly at the skin. "No - teasing," she mumbled as she guided Buffy's hand over her bottom and pressed the Slayer's fingers to her folds. "No- no – teasing," she gasped as the slender fingers slipped inside her. "No te-…" she captured Buffy's mouth with her own, and her tongue was too busy for further speech.

XXX

"Rupairt asked my permission to court Maman!" announced Fleur brightly as she appeared in her flat.

"How sweet!" exclaimed Hermione.

"The G-man has manners," agreed Faith, "and did you see how smooth he was? Mom better look to her knickers, I think Giles means business."

"He had better," averred Fleur, "Maman is not one to trifle weeth. I am more concerned about Buffy and Gabrielle."

"Let 'em have fun, baby. Buff wouldn't hurt her on purpose, and you could see how they felt about each other."

"I think she's more concerned for Buffy," said Hermione, and Fleur nodded. "Gabrielle is just coming into her full Veela powers; Buffy could find herself swept away before she realizes it. Gabby wouldn't hurt her on purpose either, but she might not fall as far in love as Buffy."

"Love is always a risk," Faith said quietly, "but you can't play it safe forever. Sometimes when you close your eyes and jump you land right where you belong, you know?"

They did know.

"We shall just 'ave to wait and see, n'est ce pas?"

"Frankly I think the Veela/Slayer thing is a lock," Faith said, "throw a witch in the mix and there's no telling how good it can get, right?"

"Oh dear," whispered Hermione.

"What? Am I wrong?" asked Faith.

"Not at all, I was just thinking of – "

"Ginny!" supplied Fleur.

"Who?"

"A friend from school, she's a witch, and a famous athlete, and a sort of on again off again paramour of Gabrielle's," Hermione explained.

"Good things come in threes, I always say," Faith answered with a smile.

XXXX

"Concentrate on zee wand movement, Willow, it is as important as zee incantation," reminded Olympe.

"I'll never be as good at this as Fleur and Hermione," sighed Willow.

"Not if you zink like zat, non," Olympe chided, "again, mon petite."

Willow was finding her studies more difficult than she had expected; the theory she excelled in, but disciplining her power was proving a challenge. Madame Maxime had helped her sort through the power that surged throughout her, and showed her how to tell her own native power from that of the Goddesses she had called on. The difficulty lay in preventing the capricious power of the divinities from affecting her focus.

When she managed it though, the results were impressive, the power of the Goddesses reinforcing her own strength. Willow assumed a severe expression and began again.

XXXX

"I think we're close, Giles," said an exhausted Kennedy as she collapsed in a chair. "That whole area is crawling with vamps. Old ones, strong ones."

"And they aren't hunting," added Rebecca as she to folded into a seat, "they are guarding something."

"Right then, time to speak with Buffy, I think," said Giles as he reached for a mirror.

"Eegnore 'im," pleaded Gabrielle.

"He wouldn't call if it weren't important, love," promised Buffy as she retrieved her mirror from the nightstand. Gabrielle ran her lower lip out a little; this caused Buffy to squirm a bit as said lip was in contact with a fairly sensitive spot. "Behave, you minx," Buffy chided, but she nonetheless opened her legs a touch wider. "Yes, Giles?"

"We believe we've found Nicodemus' lair, can you come soon?" Giles asked.

"Ye- yes, YES! I mean, sure, see you soon," gasped Buffy, and she slapped the mirror face down on the nightstand and seized the silver hair of her lover. "You heard the man, I need to come soon," she panted.

"D'accord," mumbled Gabrielle as she grazed Buffy's clit with her teeth.

"Oh God, oh Gabby, oh, OH!" The Slayers' legs trembled as the Veela brought her to completion, and then she felt the warmth of Gabrielle's breath on her neck as she snuggled against her.

_"You are mine, Buffy Summers,"_ she whispered, _"mine."_

"Pretty sure of yourself aren't you?"

"Non, not at all," Gabrielle admitted, "but I am sure of you. I can taste your love for me."

After the kiss that followed that statement, Buffy had to admit that she was right; it tasted like love to her too.

XXXX

"What's the sitch?" Buffy asked as she strolled into the library after bidding Gabrielle adieu in the foyer. Gabby had to prepare to return to school, and Buffy had not felt like sharing her just yet. They had a private leave-taking.

"Nicodemus seems to be in a villa outside Boulogne. It's a huge old estate and heavily guarded, we'll have to figure out how to get inside without causing too much commotion," answered Giles.

"I'm sure Fleur and Hermione can help, old Nic won't be expecting magic," said Buffy.

"Well, we may be sure he knows about Willow, but the brand of magic that Fleur and Hermione have might be new to him, yes. See who's at the door please, Lydia, would you?"

Lydia returned in a moment with an envelope. "There's a big car out front, the driver gave me this and said he would await a reply." She handed the envelope to Buffy, who opened it and unfolded the letter within. Something fell to the floor; Buffy read the short missive, and her face turned white.

"Nicodemus has Giselle," she said flatly, and with a growing sense of dread she picked up what had fallen. It was a photograph. "Would someone explain to me just how in the _FUCK_ Giselle got anywhere near that bastard?" She thrust the photo at Giles.

"Oh Dear Lord," he breathed. The photo showed a pretty 12 year old girl bound to a metal rack, naked, and with blood trailing from her neck.

Giselle was the newest Slayer; she had been with them less than a month and had scarcely started her training. Her bright wit and willingness to work had endeared her to everyone, as had her inquisitive nature.

"She must have overheard us talking and decided to take a look for herself, you know how curious she is," said Kennedy.

"The letter says I'm to come alone, or he'll sire her," Buffy said grimly.

"You can't possibly do that," Giles blurted, "it would be suicide."

"I don't have time to argue. I'm in charge here, and I'm going. I will not leave that girl in his clutches. He says that if I can defeat him in single combat that we will both be allowed to leave."

"It may already be too late, and you know you can't trust his word," insisted Giles.

"I can't, but I have Faith, or I will if you'll get busy. Tell her that this calls for big wood, will you?"

With that Buffy stormed out to the waiting car, and the vehicle glided away.

"Fleur," said Giles into the mirror, "we need Faith, is she with you?"

"Right here, G-man. 'Sup?"

"Can the three of you come here straight away? We have a rather urgent situation." His answer was the triple crack of apparition as Faith, Fleur, and Hermione appeared directly in the library.

"Give, G. What's going down?" demanded Faith.

"Nicodemus has Giselle captive. Buffy is in a car heading to his estate to try and rescue her. It is of course a trap, but you know Buffy."

"Who is Giselle?" asked Hermione. For answer, Kennedy handed her the photo.

"That _fiend_!" exclaimed a white-faced Hermione.

"The very definition of fiend, to be precise," Giles added. "We have some time before Buffy arrives there; the question is what to do with it."

"Did she say anything before she left?" asked Faith.

"Yes, she said to tell you that this situation calls for big wood."

"Right. How long you figure before she gets there?"

"At least an hour, perhaps a bit longer."

"Hermione, can you track in on Buffy's bracelet and get me to her?"

"Yes, I'll have to use a tracking spell, but that won't take long. I'll set it up. When do you want to go?" Hermione answered.

"Try calling her, Giles," Faith instructed.

"Buffy?" said Giles into a mirror in a blue frame.

"How much longer, driver?" came Buffy's voice from the mirror. "Hour and a half, huh? Wake me when we get there."

"Of course she doesn't dare speak to us directly, but she can let us know when she has arrived, at any rate," Giles said with a small measure of relief.

"Fleur, where can I find a big piece of wood in Paris?" Faith asked her.

"Zis is to slay zee Vampire, non?"

"You bet, and if he's tougher than his little boy it needs to be special."

"I weel return soon," promised Fleur, and she vanished.

"How many of us can you transport to Buffy, 'Mione?"

"It depends, if you only need to get fairly close, Fleur and I could take three at the time, but to Apparate right by her, only one can be done safely. Otherwise you run the risk of collision, which is never pleasant."

"Right then, you'll take me to Buffy, and then clear out and start bringing in the troops. Fleur can take the first three after we go. Gear up ladies, this is gonna get ugly. If Nicodemus takes out Buffy and me, it's up to you, but don't get killed by stupid. If it's too tough, bail. If we can't get Giselle back, she's just not coming back, dig?" The assembled Slayers voiced understanding, and headed for the armory.

"Hermione, I need you to listen. You and Fleur get the hell out of there as fast as you can, no sightseeing, no cheerleading, and no trying out spells on the vamps, okay? This is _our_ thing, and I can't fight if I'm worried about you two. Promise me on our love." Hermione's eyes filled, and her throat closed, but she knew the tone, and she knew that Faith was right.

"I promise, but you have to promise me to come back to us."

"Sure thing, 'Mione! I'm not about to die now that I have so much to live for. Piece of cake. Right Giles?"

"Indeed," agreed Giles as he looked at Hermione's agonized face, "piece of cake." _"That's what the RAF said about the Air War", he recalled grimly._

XXXX

Buffy's eyes were closed, but she was reviewing everything about the fight with Kakistos. The memories were not reassuring. "Maybe a regular old stake will do," she mused, feeling the familiar shape of Mr. Pointy, "and if not, there will be something bigger around there somewhere, just a matter of finding it."

XXXX

"Master, you take a needless risk in facing the Slayer alone. Let us all await her here," pleaded the vampire.

"She has no more than a pitiful splinter with her," hissed Nicodemus, "and she will find no weapon here." Nicodemus looked around his home with pleasure. He had tried over the years to impress upon his children, and vampires in general, of how foolish it was to have wooden items in their homes. His home was stone, his furnishings metal, fabric, and leather. There was not so much as a pencil in the whole place.

Nicodemus was pleased with his home.

"And you, my sweet, sweet, child, do you still think your Buffy will save you?" Giselle spat in his face.

"Save me or not, eet ees no matter, but zis day weel see you dust, filth!"

Nicodemus laughed as he wiped the spittle from his face.

"You shall be a treat for me throughout all time, you delicious young thing. You will never age, but you will learn to plead for my touch. I would turn you now, but I wish you to witness the destruction of Buffy Summers first. Then you shall know in your heart that I am the master. You should know that, before your heart ceases to beat. The rest you can learn at leisure. MY leisure." Nicodemus cupped her sex in his gnarled hand, laughing at her horror, and then he settled down to wait, his fingers idly exploring her body.

XXXX

"Will zis do, do you zink, Faith?" asked Fleur anxiously when she had Apparated into the library with her burden.

"I guess! Where did you get this thing, baby?" asked Faith in amazement.

"Notre Dame," muttered an embarrassed-looking Fleur.

"Good Lord!" exclaimed Giles.

"I sure hope so," said Faith.

"I have a lock on Buffy now," announced Hermione, "I can have you by her as soon as she calls for us."

"Good enough lover, now we wait. I always hated this part," Faith said grimly.

XXXX

"We have arrived, Miss Summers," announced the chauffeur.

"Great, thanks for the ride. Say, are you a vampire?"

"No, Madame, merely a lackey," he answered.

"Okay, here's some free advice. Get the hell out of here while you can. Okay?"

"Very good, Madame," he answered, and the limousine sped off in a cloud of tire smoke.

"Not as dumb as he looked," muttered Buffy as she approached the imposing doorway. The doors swung open before she could knock. "Cliché," snorted Buffy as she entered the house. The door swung heavily closed behind her.

"Jesus, what a ham…"

"_Last door on the left,"_ hissed a cold voice.

"Damn, did he watch ALL the bad horror movies?"

Behind the last door on the left, however, things were no longer funny.

Buffy saw Giselle bound to the rack, Nicodemus idly caressing her nude body. She saw the blood and the tears and the desperation, and she sprang like a tiger, burying Mr. Pointy in Nicodemus' heart.

"And that, as they say, is that, Slayer," laughed Nicodemus. "There is no wood in this house, and this pitiful splinter cannot kill me. Now you shall pay the price of your arrogance!"

Faster than thought, Nicodemus dealt Buffy a clout across her face that hurled her halfway across the room. He rose slowly and walked over to her.

"Shall I kill you, or turn you? You are not so tender as the morsel on the rack, but not unattractive, in your way."

Buffy's response was to kick him in the face; he staggered backward a few steps, giving her time to get to her feet.

"You know, Nick; may I call you Nick? Your boy Kakistos was pretty homely, but you are one ugly motherfucker. What's the matter, gotta have a little girl to get it up? That's just sad. But don't worry; I'm here to help you out. Me and mine."

XXXX

"Now!" cried Faith.

XXXX

"Bitch!" spat Nicodemus as he struck her again, sending her crashing into the wall with a thunderous crack; she slid to the floor in a daze. "You will have all eternity to repent those words, Slayer. You and your little friend over there will beg for my touch forever!"

"I don't think so, Nick," said Buffy through bubbles of blood.

"And what's going to prevent it? A miracle?" he scoffed.

"No," said a voice from behind him, "an act of Faith."

Nicodemus whirled around, having just time to register blazing dark eyes and red lips before the huge wooden cross, steeped in the faith of millions over the centuries, plunged through his heart. There was scarcely any dust at all, and from all over the grounds of the estate rang the cries of the Slayers, come to save their own.

XXXX

"You must stop this dangerous behavior Buffy," insisted Gabrielle as she bathed the Slayer's face.

"Gabrielle, ma petite," said Fleur softly, "zis ees who she is. If you are to love a Slayer, zen you accept zis, non? She is not a pet. Seek razzer to 'elp her. Would you snap your wand if she asked you to?"

"Oui, I would," insisted Gabrielle.

"But I would never ask you to, Gabby," said Buffy quietly. "I love you, and I need you, and God knows I want you. But you must take me as I am, and I am a Slayer."

"_The_ Slayer, B, and don't go handing me the title. I'm too busy with my girls here to work overtime," corrected Faith.

"Yes, you are," agreed Hermione, "and I expect compensation for following orders and leaving you with that monster."

"Work, work, work," sighed Faith.

"Your bruises," gasped Gabrielle, "zey are almost gone!"

"Comes with the package," Buffy shrugged, "the question now is, do you want the package? The whole package?"

"All or nuzzing, zat is zee choice?"

" 'Fraid so."

"D 'accord, I weel 'ave eet all," said Gabrielle firmly.

"Yes you will. See you later Faith, Fleur, 'Mione. Thanks for your help, really. I mean it, now get out."

They left smiling.

XXX

"You know you can't 'ave sex with Buffy again, 'Ermione," mused Fleur.

"I do. It would be like incest now, and anyway, I like a little meat on my Slayers."

"Which little meat do you have in mind?" Faith purred.

"I weel 'ave eet all," replied Hermione.


	7. Chapter 7

Summary:Fear of flying, Ginny lands

Warnings: Some Girlsex, some language

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling and Joss Whedon

"Faithless – almost"

"Willow, we need to talk," Kennedy greeted Willow as she entered their room after breakfast.

"Can it wait sweetie? I'll be late for class if I don't hurry."

"Fine, but I won't be here when you get back," the brunette said flatly. Willow turned to her in shock.

"Wh- what? Wh- why? What's wrong?" Willow stammered

"Ever since you've been going to witch school you've had no time for me. I have no idea what you're talking about anymore, you're always gone or studying or tired. I'm not important to you anymore, Willow. I'm not willing to be unimportant to my girlfriend. I'm going to open the new Headquarters in Spain."

"But…" began Willow, but in a flash of insight she knew that Kennedy was right. She never ihad/i been as important as Tara to her, and she couldn't share her joy in the new knowledge of witchcraft. The truth of the realization must have been plain on Willow's face, because it brought a brittle smile to Kennedy's.

"You know I'm right Willow. I'm sad, but I'm not angry. People change, I've changed, and the world has changed. We were good together for a while, but we both need more than this relationship can give us. It's time to move on." There was only a tiny tremble in Kennedy's voice as she said this, only a tiny hint that she hoped Willow would contradict her, insist that she stay.

"I'm sorry," Willow whispered. A few tears appeared on two faces as the last doubt blew away on the whisper.

Kennedy planted a dry kiss on Willow's cheek.

"Get to class, be smart, learn shit," commanded the Slayer, "I'll see you around, Rosenberg."

And just like that it was over.

Willow had no time to ponder yet another hole in her life; she activated her portkey and vanished.

"Today Willow, I zeenk you must learn to fly," Madame Maxime said by way of greeting. "Report to Madame LaPlume at zee Quidditch pitch."

Willow's excitement at the prospect blunted the edge of the pain of her breakup, and the scene greeting her at the Quidditch pitch drove the rest of it away and replaced it with nervousness verging on terror. A formidable-looking witch was watching as a horde of students pelted around the sky like swallows chasing mosquitoes.

"Aaah, Mademoiselle Rosenburg, I am pleased to meet you at last. Madame Maxime has told me much about you," Madame LaPlume said when she noticed Willow beside her.

Willow smiled nervously at the tall woman, "Is that the Quidditch team flying?" she asked.

"Oh, non!" exclaimed Madame in her curiously British accent. "This is my first year class. I know you are quite advanced magically, but I did not think that you would have had any experience on a broom, you see. I thought it best to start at the beginning."

Willow's gaze returned to the soaring kids in the sky, and she swallowed audibly. "The beginning…"

Madame LaPlume looked at Willow in concern. "Of course, these children have grown up with the notion of flying broomsticks, in fact most of them knew how to fly before they came to Beauxbatons. We will start at the true beginning, never fear."

The next hour had Willow feeling more like a dunce than anything in her life had come close to doing. The broom was reluctant to rise to her hand, she had trouble staying on it if she did succeed in mounting it, and when it began at last to respond to her commands she was utterly convinced that it would simply shoot out from under her.

"Not bad at all for your first attempt," lied Madame LaPlume, "never fear, you'll get the hang of it soon enough. I'll see you next week then, shall I?"

Willow gave her a shaky smile in reply, and headed back to the castle sweating with humiliation. It was a new experience for her to be absolutely terrible at something in school. Even if flying was technically PE, she couldn't dismiss the thought. She had failed. Utterly. She knew that before next week Madame Maxime would have found a reason to schedule something in place of flying for Willow Rosenberg.

"She is terrified of the broom, Olympe. It is simply unsafe to try and teach her, and the embarrassment nearly killed the poor girl."

"D'accord," said Olympe, "well, we could 'ardly expect 'er to be zee new seeker. She 'ees brilliant, zere are uzzer zings for 'er to do. Zank you for your frankness, Marie."

"Excuse me," said Willow automatically upon colliding with someone while rounding a corner, "my fault, I wasn't paying attention." She tried to hurry away, but her arm was grasped by the other person.

"Is zis 'ow you greet your friends, Willow?" asked a voice that brought to mind impossibly soft skin gleaming with oil.

"Oh, Fleur! I didn't recognize you, I-"

"What is wrong, Willow," Fleur cut in abruptly.

"Wrong? Nothing, I'm just a bit winded from flying practice, is all," Willow replied.

"You 'ave been crying, and you are trembling. Zat is not "winded" my friend. Tell Fleur about it."

Willow looked into the blue eyes that were regarding her with such kindness and concern, and her fragile reserve shattered. Heedless of who might be watching she flung herself into Fleur's arms and sobbed out the tale of the flying lesson.

"Do not zink on it Willow," soothed Fleur as she held the shorter woman and stroked her hair. "It is new to you, it will get better."

"I don't think so," Willow said as she wiped her face on the sleeve of her robe. "I'm rotten on a broom, but I'm not dumb. Madame LaPlume can't possibly teach someone as inept as I am, it wouldn't be fair to the other students. It's okay though, at least I can use a wand now!"

"Indeed! Olympe tells me zat you are making astonishing progress," agreed Fleur.

"I guess I'll leave the flying to the jocks. Thanks Fleur, you're a good friend. It was great to see you, but I've got to get to class now. Give my love to Faith and 'Mione." Willow kissed Fleur briefly on the cheek and hurried away.

"I must go and see Olympe," Fleur thought as she watched Willow hurry off.

"Olympe is going to stop Willow's flying training," announced Fleur over dinner.

"Oh no!" exclaimed Hermione. "Whatever for?"

"She is terrified of zee broom, of flying," Fleur told them, "Madame LaPlume 'as decided it is not safe to teach 'er."

"Well, it's no big deal right?" asked Faith. "I mean, she's doing okay in the rest of Witch school isn't she?"

"Very well, Olympe tells me," Fleur replied, "but I zink zis failure 'urts 'er very much."

"She likely grew up thinking witches rode brooms just as I did," mused Hermione. "When she discovered her power, it was through Wicca, where brooms are regarded as a stereotype and not used. Then she found out that she really was a "traditional" witch. I'm sure the flying is an important part of being a witch to her."

"So we'll help her, right?" Faith put forward, "she's a friend, she helped save me, she's seen us all naked, hell, she's family. We gotta help her out."

"I zink so too, but 'ow?" Fleur mused.

"Ginny," said Hermione firmly.

"Willow, I have a message here asking you to pop over to Faith's place tonight at 8:30. She seemed to think it was rather important," Giles told her.

"Okay, it'll be good to see them again. Not like there's anything keeping me here nights, anymore," she answered him.

"No doubt it will do you good to get out," agreed Giles. "And Willow, I'm sorry about you and Kennedy…"

"Thanks, but it was time. Besides, she was right, I don't have enough time to really nurture a relationship right now. Or at least I'm not willing to take it. Does that make me a bad person, Giles?"

"Of course not, dear girl, it makes you human, the witch thing notwithstanding," Giles kissed the top of Willow's head.

"How are things going with Fleur's Mom?"

"One cannot rush such a thing, a lady such as Apolline must be courted properly, you understand," he replied.

"I'm sure, but she's also a woman, and judging from her daughter, a woman of considerable passion. Be sure you treat her like a woman, and not just a lady. She won't break, Giles," Willow counseled.

"Quite," Giles said as he wandered from the library, his mind firmly elsewhere, visions of silken hair and blue eyes with the ghosts of smiles around them, and a throaty laugh that turned his knees to water. "Quite," he said to himself.

Faith, Fleur, and Hermione were seated in the living room of their flat, relaxing after dinner.

"So when is Wonder Woman gonna show up?" asked Faith. Her answer was a rush of wind through the window, and then a kind of trembling in the air of the room that resolved into the figure of a woman as the Disillusionment Charm was removed. The woman was short, with fiery red hair that fell in a cascade to her waist. She was dressed in black boots, black leather pants, and a black leather vest that obviously had nothing under it but her. Around her left arm coiled a tattoo of a snake. The tattoo moved ceaselessly, the venomous-green reptile coiling around her arm. Periodically, the snake would rear to strike, exposing huge fangs. When that happened, a silver sword with a ruby encrusted hilt would plunge through the open mouth and out the top of the head, sending the serpent thrashing about in its death throes, only to resume its endless circling of the freckled arm.

"Wicked tat!" exclaimed Faith.

"Thanks," replied Ginny, "it has sentimental value. I guess you're Faith. I'm Ginny, nice to meet you. Be good to these two or I'll kick your ass."

"Well, fuck me," said a grinning Faith. Ginny looked her up and down.

"Love to, as long as Fleur and Hermione don't mind."

"I like her!" exclaimed Faith. "Can we keep her?"

"Alas, no," answered Hermione with the ghost of a smile.

"I don't feel sorry for you, look what you've got at home. At least you were my first," Ginny responded. "Where is the "scared of flying" woman?"

"She's a lot more than that, Rusty," said Faith, bristling.

"I know she is, I just spent an hour with Olympe and Marie, otherwise I wouldn't be here," answered Ginny shortly. "Fleur, you know that if someone is genuinely afraid of the broom, that it's usually a waste of time trying to teach them. But from what I know so far, it just doesn't track that this chick would be so scared of it. She really loves magic, and that's what flying a broom is. _Magic. _ What else can you tell me about her?"

"I have a pensieve set up with some memories we shared," Hermione began, "but we really need her permission first."

"Fine; do I have time to fuck Faith before she gets here?"

"Alas, no," Fleur informed her, "Willow will be 'ere soon."

"Damn. Can I get a rain check, Butch?" Ginny asked Faith.

For once Faith was rendered speechless, she looked to Hermione for help, but she was just slowly shaking her head and smiling.

"It is fine with us, Faith. Really, Ginny 'as to be experienced to be truly appreciated. Like a 'urricane or zomezing," Fleur told her.

Ginny walked over to Faith, stood on her tiptoes, and whispered something in Faith's ear. Faith blushed furiously.

"I told you so," said an amused Fleur.

With a loud crack, Willow appeared by the window.

"She's hot," said Ginny flatly. "She's a redhead, and she's hot. Why didn't you tell me?"

"We were saving it for a surprise," Hermione told her. "She's a lesbian, too."

"Better and better," Ginny muttered as she frankly appraised the other short redhead in the room.

"Who is she?" asked Willow, slightly taken aback.

"I'm Ginny Weasley, your new flying instructor." Willows eyes went huge and round.

"_The_ Ginny Weasley?" squeaked Willow, Ginny Weasley was a constant topic of conversation at Beauxbatons. Ginny nodded. "You're gonna teach me to fly?" Ginny nodded. "You- you think I'm- hot?" Ginny nodded again. "Are you…" Ginny nodded once more, and grinned broadly. Willow felt a little funny inside.

"Willow, I want to ask you if I may show Ginny some of the memories we shared, to help her understand you better," Hermione asked. The hesitation was plain on Willow's face.

"Willow, Ginny was in zee war, zere is nuzzing in your memories zat will shock 'er," Fleur assured her.

"Fleur is right, Willow, Ginny has seen as much horror as anyone here," Hermione agreed.

"But has she ever been taken over by a dark power and forced to do terrible things?"

"Actually, yes," said Ginny. She stepped over to Willow and softly caressed her cheek. "Sometimes you have to let go and trust, and if you can't trust me yet, I know you can trust them, okay?" Willow saw the kindness in the eyes before her, and despite her brash exterior she knew that Ginny _was_ someone that she could trust. She nodded slowly.

"The pensieve is on the kitchen table, Gin," Hermione told her. Wasting no time, Ginny walked over to the table and thrust her face into the silvery liquid.

"Tell me again who she is?" Faith asked, her face at last resuming its normal color.

"Aside from being the only person I've ever seen make you blush, she's a top Quidditch player, and widely regarded as the best flyer in the world. Ever," Hermione answered. "It's like getting guitar lessons from Eric Clapton, Willow." Willow did not seem too reassured.

Long minutes later, Ginny pulled her head from the pensieve. Her face was grim, and she said nothing as she walked over to Willow and hugged her tightly.

"You are _not_ scared of flying," Ginny announced as she broke the hug. Willow looked puzzled.

"But Madame LaPlume-"

"Was mistaken. You aren't afraid of the broom, you're afraid of losing control. I'm going to teach you to control the broom and thereby control the fear. And then I'm going to make you completely lose control on a flying broom, and you're going to love it, and you'll love flying for the rest of your life. I refuse to let another short redheaded witch miss out on this joy. Do you hear me?" Willow nodded. "Do you believe me?" Willow nodded again, it was impossible not to believe her.

"We'll be in touch, ladies," Ginny said to the Faith, Fleur, and Hermione. "I've already been in contact with your Mum, Fleur. I'm taking Willow there for a few days to sort this out, there's room there and we'll have privacy behind the wards."

"Willow," she said, "get onto my broom, and don't worry; it won't budge until I tell it to." Ginny's confidence seemed to steady Willow, and she held Ginny's hand as she swung her leg over the broom.

"Oh," exclaimed Willow, "this is so much nicer than the school brooms."

"It had better be," Ginny replied. "I'm going to sit behind you; I'll hold you so you don't need to worry about anything, okay?" Ginny swung aboard the broom behind Willow, pressing firmly against her back, her arms rounding Willow's waist and grasping the broom in front of her. " 'Mione, would you Disillusion us, please?" Hermione obliged, and there was only a vague shimmy in the air to mark their place.

"I'll be back for you Butch," said Ginny's voice, "don't forget what I told you." There was a swooshing sound, and they were gone.

"What did she tell you?" Hermione asked Faith. Faith blushed again.

"Umm…" stammered Faith.

"The broom thing," Hermione said to Faith.

"Oui, zat would do it."

"Open your eyes," said Ginny, her breath warm on Willow's ear.

"What makes you think they're closed?"

"Open them, Willow." Willow did, and she gasped at the beauty of Paris at night beneath the speeding broom.

"Now, no lessons on this trip, you just relax and leave everything to me, okay?" Ginny asked.

"Okay." Willow was comforted by the feel of Ginny against her back, the warm strength of the arms around her, and the absolute stability of the broom between her legs. Gradually she relaxed, and allowed herself to sink back against Ginny. She could not see the smile this brought to the face of the witch behind her. "Me," she thought to herself, "Willow Rosenberg, being flown through the night skies of Paris by Ginny Weasley. Life is good." She relaxed a touch more, and her head leaned into the crook of Ginny's neck.

Ginny was ecstatic that Willow was relaxing so well and so soon, she now knew that she had been right in her assessment of the problem. Given a situation where she was not responsible for controlling the broom, she was enjoying flying. The rest might not be easy, but she now was convinced that it was possible. Ginny pressed her cheek against Willow, and was rewarded by Willow's hands coming to rest atop her own.

The flight proceeded in silence, except for the synchronized heartbeats and breathing of the two witches speeding through the night.

"We need a redhead to complete the set," Faith said as she buttered her toast.

"Ginny isn't one to make a set, I'm afraid," Hermione explained.

"How could she pass up all this gorgeousness?" Faith persisted.

"Ginny is a wandering spirit," Fleur tried.

"Huh?"

"Ginny won't be constrained in any sense, being part of a set implies obligation, and Ginny doesn't do that. She is a true friend, and a marvelous lover, and she helps generously when asked, but when she's ready to go, she goes," Hermione explained.

"I used to be like that, kind of," Faith recalled, "do you think she doesn't believe that people love her?"

"It could be, I suppose," Fleur said, "it must be 'ard to tell, she is rich and famous, people are always after 'er."

"Well, I hope she finds what I have, whether it's with us or not," Faith said, "I really like the girl."

"So do I," Hermione answered. "Thinking of Ginny has made me sad; do either or both of you have time to make love with me before you go?"

"Zere is always time to love you, 'Ermione," Faith said softly, touching Hermione's hand.

"Come to Mama," said Faith as she lifted Hermione from the chair. "I for one am completely content to be with you two forever."

"What about Ginny?" asked Hermione.

"Who?" asked Faith as she kissed the woman in her arms.

"Ginny!" exclaimed Willow as she sped among the trees, alone on the broom. "I'm doing it!"

"You sure are, Will, now come back down," directed Ginny from where she stood on the ground below her.

"But…"

"But me no buts. Come down now," commanded Ginny. Willow obeyed. This was their second day of lessons, and Willow was now on a broom of her own.

"Wasn't I doing it right?" Willow asked as she dismounted.

"Yes, you were. But you need to get used to doing what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it. We're going to be progressing rapidly, and you need to get used to following instructions without question. Can you trust me that much?"

"Yes," Willow said without hesitation.

"Good. Get undressed," said Ginny.

"What fo-" Ginny raised a finger, and Willow abruptly stopped speaking. She could read nothing on her instructors' face. Nervously, she complied.

"Clothes," began Ginny, "insulate us from the world; they armor us against our feelings. Flying is all about feeling." Ginny began to undress as well, and Willow found herself unable to take her eyes off of her.

Ginny's skin shone with health, her muscles gliding smoothly under the sunlight; soon she was completely nude, standing in front of Willow. Ginny gestured, and Willow hastened to remove her underthings.

"You have the most beautiful stomach I have ever seen," said Ginny plainly, and she let out a piercing whistle. In an instant, her broom was hovering beside her.

"It comes when you whistle?" asked Willow.

"Not really, it's a nonverbal spell, but I watched cowboy movies when I was a kid and I thought it was cool when the horse came to the whistle," she explained. "Now to the lesson, follow me. If I tell you to do something, do it, no matter how stupid it seems. Don't think about flying, just watch me and keep me right in front of you, okay? All you have to do is think of keeping me right in front of you."

"Okay," agreed Willow.

"Let's go," said Ginny, and she hopped onto her broom and hovered a few feet away to give Willow time to get airborne.

"Can you see me okay?" asked Ginny.

"Uh-huh," said Willow as she drank in the sight before her.

"Follow me," said Ginny, and she moved off. Willow kept her eyes fixed on Ginny, she counted the freckles on her back, she watched as the fiery hair streamed in the wind, she studied the play of the muscles of Ginny's legs as she gave subtle commands to her broom, she stared long at the dimples in the small of her back.

"Willow," said Ginny, and Willow could hear her quite clearly.

"Yes," answered Willow.

"Look down." Willow did, and she gasped at the sight of the ground far below.

"Where are we?" Willow asked.

"At the farthest boundary of the estate," answered Ginny, we have flown through countless loops, corkscrews, split esses, and nearly every other aerobatic maneuver known, and you kept right up with me. Witch, you can fly!"

"But I was just staring at your ass!" exclaimed Willow. Ginny spun her broom around to face Willow.

"I told you that flying was all about feeling, close your eyes." Willow obeyed. "Get off the broom." Willow obeyed, and she fell for a few dizzy feet before she felt herself in a warm and most delicious embrace. "Open your eyes," Ginny said, and she did, and she found Ginny's own eyes mere inches from hers.

"Now," Ginny said as her lips found Willow's. "Now," she breathed as she trailed kisses down Willow's neck, "you will lose control on a broomstick."

The broom soared off as Ginny's lips closed over one of Willow's nipples, and Willow threaded her fingers into the flying red hair and pulled Ginny to her breast eagerly as the world fell away beneath them.

"Lay back," directed Ginny, and Willow loosed her hold on Ginny's hair and fell back along the broom, the various charms supporting her comfortably. "I really want to kiss your stomach, do you mind?"

"I don't mind," Willow answered, and she watched as Ginny's lips traced their way across and around her tummy, feeling the occasional flicker of a wet tongue on her skin. Ginny kissed her way below Willow's navel. Ginny looked up at Willow as she reached one hand up to caress a breast. "Do you mind?" she asked.

Willow put her hands on Ginny's head and pushed down while spreading her legs wide, "I don't mind," she said. "Oh God, Ginny," she cried as Ginny's tongue parted her lips, curling upward to stroke her clit. Willow tugged on the red hair between her fingers as she ground herself frantically against Ginny's face. The wind on her skin, the sky around her, and most of all the feeling of Ginny's tongue and lips on her most sensitive places had Willow somewhere she had never thought to be. "Oh God, YES!" cried Willow as she felt Ginny's fingers enter her and take up a relentless motion, curling to stroke her inside as they withdrew, only to slide back in as Ginny drew her clit in between her lips.

Ginny drew Willow's outer labia into her mouth and tugged firmly as she continued to work her fingers inside the other witch. She could feel Willow's legs tremble, and feel the spasmodic clutching of her inner self. "Oh, oh, OH, OH,OHOHO-nnnn!" cried Willow as she clamped down on Ginny's fingers, sending a cascade of hot fluid over her face.

Willow slowly opened her eyes to see Ginny smiling into her face, her lips puffy and her face still running with Willow.

"See there?" said Ginny. "Losing control isn't always bad, now is it?" Willow shook her head as she raised her face to Ginny's and licked it.

"Not bad at all, now land this thing, please. What I want to do with you I don't think I can do on a broom, and I _really_ want to do it."


	8. Chapter 8

Summary: Faith makes a point, Ginny takes a baby step

Warnings: Mild girlsex, mild language

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling and Joss Whedon

"A Strong Faith"

Ginny and Willow were lying beneath a tree high on a hill overlooking the Delacour vineyards. This was the last day of their stay, and they had flown out there for some quiet reflection over recent events. Willow was now fairly confident about flying; although on her own she could not work up the nerve to do the aerobatics that she had while following the naked Ginny. Willow had decided that she quite liked naked Ginny, and fortunately the feeling was reciprocated.

"Gin," began Willow hesitantly as she idly toyed with Ginny's hair, "why do you put on that brash front? You aren't really like that, I know."

"It's not a front, it's the way I am," insisted Ginny.

"Okay then, if you say so, it's just that you've been so sweet and patient with me, so gentle. Well, except when gentleness wasn't exactly needed. I haven't felt so comfortable with anyone in a long time."

"I'm glad you're comfortable with me Will, I like being with you too." Ginny raised up on her elbow and kissed Willow's nose.

"You see? That was so _sweet!_

"Maybe I'm just trying to get in your pants, hmm?" said Ginny archly.

"You're welcome in there any time at all," Willow assured her. "Ginny, I –" she hesitated for a moment, "I think I might be falling in –"

"Don't say it!" begged Ginny as she jumped to her feet. "Promise me you won't say it."

"Why shouldn't I say it if I feel it?" asked Willow, confused, and a bit hurt. "I can tell you care for me, sex couldn't be that good if there weren't real feelings, Gin."

"Because people I love die, or go away, or change. I saw so many people I loved die in the war; friends, my brother, people I loved. Do you know what it's like to lose someone you love because of the whim of a madman?"

"To quote you; actually, I do. My first real love, the woman who awakened me, was killed by a madman. He wasn't even trying to kill her, he was trying to kill Buffy and a shot went wild. She died staring at her blood on me."

Ginny had no reply for that, she merely hugged herself and stared into the distance. Willow rose and put a tentative hand on Ginny's shoulder. After a moment Ginny spoke.

"After my brother was killed, I killed as many of the enemy as I could, whether they resisted or not. I killed people on their knees, begging for their lives. I don't want love if it turns me into someone who would do that. I can hear them begging in my dreams."

"I hunted down the guy who killed Tara. I caught him in the woods, bound him with magic, sewed his mouth shut and tortured him. Then I ripped off all of his skin and immolated him. I have to admit that it doesn't bother me that much," Willow responded.

"Did it help?"

"The pain? No, the pain you grow accustomed to, and it fades a bit with time, but it will always be there. Tara was worthy of the pain, it _should_ hurt."

"How can you think of falling in love again, then?" asked Ginny

"I can't help who I love. Neither can you, Ginny, all you can do is hide from it. That never really works."

"It's worked pretty well so far," insisted Ginny.

Willow rather disagreed there, but she thought it best not to say so.

"I'll take whatever you're willing to give me, Ginny, and I'll give you whatever you'll accept, any or all of me. I can't promise I'll never die, but I know I'll always love you," Willow told her.

"I asked you not to say it," whispered Ginny as tears started from her eyes, and she wrapped her arms around Willow and covered her face with salty kisses. "Now look what you've done, you redheaded minx."

"Back at you," replied Willow as she stroked Ginny's hair. "I don't expect you to give up other girls, I don't ask for anything other than that you let me love you, you see? I know I can't own you, you're like a falcon, you have to fly, and I know that. But with me, you don't have to hide. I won't tell anyone about the tenderness or the pain."

Ginny snuffled loudly, and pulled back a bit to see Willow better. "Will you tell them I'm a great lay?"

"Everyone I see, I can't wait to get back to Beauxbatons. Those girls will just have to settle for eating their _hearts_ out," said a grinning Willow.

"I can take a hint," Ginny told her as she reached for Willow's belt.

"Ginny, I know that you and Willow are leaving today, but I wonder if you could come back for the weekend?" asked Apolline. "Gabrielle will be home and she's invited Buffy. I'm going to see if Fleur and her girls can come too."

"I know I can," Ginny answered, "practice doesn't start for another month. Sounds like fun to me."

"I'd love to," Willow agreed, "I'll need to see if Giles needs me first, though. I've been gone a lot and he may need help with something."

"Rupert will be here as well," Apolline told her, "you may tell him that if he interferes with your coming here, he will never touch the guitar again."

"That'll do it!" exclaimed Willow. "Sounds like quite a party, can I bring anything?"

"That's sweet, Willow, but not necessary, the elves are really looking forward to it. They have menus longer than they are tall."

"Hermione hasn't been pushing you to free them?" Ginny asked, grinning impishly.

"All of our House-elves are indeed free; they are paid as any good employee would be. Of course, you couldn't drive them from this house with dragons."

"I can't say I blame them," said Ginny as she rose to her feet, "thank you for your hospitality Apolline. It's always a joy to see you."

"I don't see you nearly often enough, chère Ginny. You know the door is always open to you. And you too, of course, Willow. I look forward to the weekend, girls, au'voir."

"Do you want to go to Fleur's or back to Slayer central Willow?" asked Ginny.

"Headquarters I think, I need to catch up on my studies."

"Hang on to me then, you'll need to drive, bye Apolline," said Ginny, a moment later and they were gone.

"Bookends," said Apolline to the air, "such a lovely couple, I hope. Ginny looked happier than I've seen her in ages. This looks to be quite a weekend."

"Thanks for being so patient with me Ginny, teaching me to fly," Willow told her after they appeared in the training room at headquarters. Ginny kissed her softly.

"You're more than welcome. Here, I want you to have her," Ginny said, handing her broom to Willow.

"Ginny! I can't take your broom, it's too much, and you need it," protested Willow.

"I have lots of brooms, but only one Willow. Here, let me sign it for you. Give the girls at school something to think about." Ginny thought for a moment, then traced her wand over the broom handle. Golden words appeared on the dark wood.

"To Willow – The best I ever had, love, Ginny Weasley"

Willow blushed fiercely, and hugged the broom tightly. "You said… love."

"I wrote it, that's a bit different," corrected Ginny. "I'm headed over to Hermione's, any messages?"

"Just hello and looking forward to seeing them. Try not to scare Faith too badly, okay? She's just learning to fly herself."

"I'll be gentle; well, no I won't, if it comes up," Ginny assured her, "take care of my girl Will."

With that Ginny disappeared, leaving Willow carefully diagramming that last sentence in her mind.

"Ginny," said Hermione as she opened the door, "you're the last person I expected to use the door. You usually fly in through the window."

"Not this time, and I didn't let you know I was coming so it seemed rude to Apparate in. Umm, I kind of need to talk to you, 'Mione."

"Of course, come on in, Fleur and Faith are out grocery shopping. Stay for dinner?"

"Love to, thanks," answered Ginny as Hermione led the way into the living room.

"I know Faith will be glad to see you," Hermione began as she curled up on the couch, "we'd never seen her blush like that. I think she's even a touch nervous."

"Yeah, about that, 'Mione…"

"It's fine with both Fleur and I if you have sex with Faith, we aren't jealous, and I know you would both enjoy it. We love you Gin, you know that."

"Yeah, well, I kind of don't feel much like it anymore," said Ginny quietly.

"Oh?" said Hermione as her brows disappeared into her hairline.

"It's not that she's not attractive," Ginny hastened to add. "Hell, she's one of the hottest women I've ever seen. If we'd had time the other day I'd have been all over her."

"Then what's wrong?"

"I'm not sure 'wrong' is the right word… oh fuck, I don't know how to begin," Ginny told her, lowering her face to her lap.

"It's all right Ginny," soothed Hermione, rubbing her friend's back. "You know you can tell me anything. I've always found the beginning to be a good place to start with most things."

"It's Willow; she told me that she thinks she's falling in love with me."

"I see, well that's easy enough to understand, you're kind, and you did go out of your way to help her. And the fact that you're beautiful and famous doesn't hurt. I can't say that I'm surprised that she feels that way. But that doesn't mean you can't have relations with other women, you didn't hunt her down you know."

"I know, it's just that she understands me, I think. Do you know what happened to Tara?"

"I do, I shared with Willow when we were helping Faith with that demon problem. I know pretty much everything about Willow."

"I felt something with her, and it scares me," Ginny said flatly.

"You're afraid that if you love her something will happen to her, aren't you?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, stupid isn't it?"

"Not at all, I worry about Faith and Fleur all the time. Especially Faith, being a Slayer is terribly dangerous. But it is a part of her, and a part of why I love her. So I help her all that I can, and I love her all that I can, and I treasure every minute that the three of us have together. And if something happens to her, I will be crushed, but I won't let that stop me from having her in my life," Hermione told her.

"Do you think I'm a coward, then? You know I haven't dared to love anyone since the war," asked Ginny.

"You love me. You love Fleur."

"That's different; you know what I mean, Hermione."

"I do, I'm just pointing out that there are still people you care about, that it would hurt if you lost. You're one of the bravest people I know Ginny. We all lost people we loved in the war and every one of us have had to deal with it in our own way. I wasn't strong enough to deal with it on my own, if not for Fleur I don't think that I would have survived. But you did. You kept going, and you excelled, and you mean a lot to very many people. Coward? Not in the least," declared Hermione.

"I think I maybe could love her too, Hermione, someday when I've healed a bit more," Ginny said quietly.

"Then I'm thrilled for you Gin. You two could be good for each other, you have similar experiences. So that's why you've turned off of Faith? You know, two's company, but three is just about perfect," teased Hermione.

"Never swung that way myself, I went through my million women one at the time. It was usually enjoyable, but none of them ever touched my heart. I mean, it was great with you, and Fleur is, well, Fleur, and I do love you both, but it's not like what you have with Faith and Fleur. It's not like…" Ginny stopped, unable to express the exact feeling.

"It's not like we hold your soul in our hands."

"That's about it, I knew you'd know what I was trying to say," sighed Ginny in relief.

"To tell you the truth, Gin, I was never really comfortable with your being with all those women. It seemed like you were a bit…"

"Slutty?" grinned Ginny.

"Unhappy," corrected Hermione, "I kind of like a little slut in my woman from time to time. Faith isn't exactly a nun you know."

"Neither are you, Miss Bookworm. Willow said you practically converted Buffy all on your own. She said Buffy hardly said a word for two days, just walked around with a big goofy grin on her face," teased Ginny.

"It's nice to be appreciated," Hermione gloated. "Really Ginny, if you think you feel this with Willow, just let it come, you'll know it if it's right. You two can help each other a great deal; you already helped her with the flying. How did it go?"

"Really well, she learned to love flying, and that's crucial to being good. She's comfortable on a broom now," Ginny explained with a sly smile.

"I see, I might feel a bit jealous, actually," replied Hermione.

"She'll be okay in class now, might even have a little edge."

"Oh?" enquired Hermione.

"I gave her my broom, autographed and all. We'll see what the kids in class make of that!"

"Ginny, you never sign broomsticks!" exclaimed Hermione.

"I'll likely never sign another," agreed Ginny.

"I'm glad you came to talk with me Ginny, and I'm so excited for you. Be patient with yourself, you're worth waiting for, I promise."

"Thanks, 'Mione," Ginny said as she took her friend's hand.

"Faith is going to be very disappointed, however," teased Hermione.

"You and Fleur will just have to help her get over it I guess, though I haven't ruled it out altogether. Damn, but she's hot. Tell you what, if I let her down, I'll loan you a broom if you like."

"We'll do what we can," assured Hermione, "and I'll help you let her down easily if it comes to that, and the broom might help. You'll be missing something though, I can promise you that."

"I'll whistle one up, but be sure to use all the safety charms. You're brill', 'Mione, but you're kind of pants at flying," Ginny jibed.

The banter was interrupted by the crack of apparition; Hermione went into the kitchen and spoke quietly with Fleur and Faith. There were two muffled squeals of joy, and soon enough, dinner preparation was under way under Fleur's supervision.

"I have never tasted anything so good in my life, Fleur," testified Ginny as she put her fork down.

"I have, often," said Faith with a Cheshire grin.

"Touché," said Ginny, "in that case, so have I, recently, but not often."

"Damn," said Faith quietly, "two tiny hot redheads and two tiny hot blondes. My friends make me wet."

"What are friends for, otherwise?" Ginny answered.

"You sure you're not up for a little Faith?" Faith purred.

"Be'ave, Faith," Fleur told her.

"It's okay Fleur, I did kind of start it, and I'm tempted, truth to tell. I just might need a little time to sort things out inside before I take on a project like Faith."

"Mrr-rower!" Faith shrilled, "are you sure we can't keep her?"

"Nothing is impossible, Hermione tells me. Don't give up hope, Faith."

"Thank God we don't have a friend named Charity," Hermione muttered with her head in her hands.

"Actually, I know someone named…" began Ginny.

"Please, I'm begging you," pleaded Hermione.

"Are you guys going to Fleur's Mum's this weekend?" asked Ginny by way of changing the subject.

"Oui," replied Fleur, "Rupairt is going to be zere, and we must chaperone, n'est ce pas?"

"Wait till you hear the G-man play guitar, Ginny. He's old, but he's a real knicker-soaker when he gets going."

"I'm really looking forward to it," Ginny said. "You cooked, I'll wash up. Merlin knows I'm good at it, with my mother. You three go relax and I'll be there in a bit."

The trio gratefully accepted her offer, and retreated to the living room.

"So, our bird 'as finally 'ad 'er wings clipped, do you think?" asked Fleur as they settled down.

"Sounds to me like she may have found them," demurred Faith. "Catting around is no substitute for love. I know. I've felt freer and happier with you two than I ever thought possible."

"I am so glad you feel like that Faith," Hermione said earnestly.

"Course, I'd still like a piece of Ginny, but I can be patient," Faith responded.

"Ginny is quite something," Fleur avowed, "provided, of course, zat you like 'aving your pussy in a 'ot, soft, blender."

"Fuck me," breathed Faith.

"Later, we promise," answered Hermione.

"Who wants booze?" called Ginny from the kitchen.

"Maybe if I get her drunk…" mused Faith.

"Don't even think about it," Hermione said, "Ginny is impervious to alcohol, and it's really funny watching guys try to get her drunk."

The light of battle kindled in Faith's eyes.

The morning found Faith balled up on the couch, her tentative movements upon waking were accompanied by a pounding headache and a truly remarkable taste in her mouth.

"I warned you," said Hermione, smiling from the doorway.

"What happened?" asked Faith.

"You challenged Ginny to a drinking game."

"Did I win?"

"'Ardly," Fleur informed her, "I suggest zat you look at your stomach." Fleur was not troubling to hide her amusement, and it was with great trepidation that Faith pulled up her shirt and examined her stomach.

Bleary-eyed as she was, it took her a moment to read the writing upside down, but she managed.

"You were _magnificent_!" Ginny Weasley"

"So did Ginny and I…" began Faith.

"We aren't going to tell you," Hermione said smugly, "there is a potion by the sink in the bathroom that will help. Perhaps next time you'll believe me when I warn you."

"I promise," said Faith just before sweat bloomed on her face and she ran from the room.

"Will we ever tell 'er?" asked Fleur.

"Best let her wonder, that way she can settle on what she likes best."

"D'accord, but it was funny, and very impressive."

"This weekend will be interesting, I think."

It was with a bounce in her step that Willow headed for the Quidditch pitch, carrying her broom. Ginny had informed both Olympe and Madame LaPlume that Willow was now perfectly capable of participating in class, and of course since Willow was an adult, having her own broom was fine. She arrived early and eagerly showed her broom to the Professor.

"Zut alors!" exclaimed Madame LaPlume. "Zis is a magnificent broom, and…" her eyes had fallen on the inscription. "'Ave you any idea of what zis broom is worth, Mam'selle Rosenberg? Ginny Weasley never signs broomsticks, 'eet violates one of 'er endorsement contracts." Willow felt a warmth kindle inside her at this news. "And I think zomething else may be involved, n'est ce pas?" asked Madame LaPlume.

"I know I'm just one of many," said Willow, blushing.

"Believe me, mon petite, zis broom says uzzerwise."

It was the best class Willow ever had, bar none. She was just sorry her classmates were too young to gloat with, but Madame LaPlume had an answer for that too.

"You are beyond zis class now Willow," she said at the conclusion of class, "I believe you are ready for zee advanced class, with zee senior students, what do you think?"

"I think that sounds perfect!"

After her first advanced class, the name of Willow Rosenberg was on every set of lips. For the first time in her life, Willow knew what it must have been like to be Cordelia Chase. She did resolve, however, not to be such a bitch.

Willow and Ginny arrived last at the Delacour estate, Ginny had had to explain to one of her sponsors that the broom signing was a one-shot deal and that they needn't worry. She may also have said something to the effect that they could collectively sit on their brooms if they didn't like it, but they were accustomed to Ginny. Also, she sold a _lot_ of broomsticks with her endorsement.

They found Apolline and Rupert sitting in the family room having an aperitif.

"How nice to see you again, girls," Apolline greeted them.

"Thank you, Apolline," replied Ginny as Willow smiled her greeting to the older generation. "I thought we were late, are the others not here yet?"

"Fleur, Hermione, and Faith have gone flying. Gabrielle and Buffy are at the pool having a swim before dinner. Feel free to join them, in either place," answered Apolline.

"Fancy a swim, Willow?" asked Ginny.

"Sure, you coming Giles?"

"Thank you, no," replied Giles as he raised his glass to them, "I believe that I shall sit here and watch the sunset with Apolline and enjoy this marvelous liqueur. I am most pleased to meet you, Ginny. Willow speaks most highly of you."

"Thanks, Mr. Giles, she thinks a lot of you too."

The girls headed for the pool house, where they found Buffy and Gabrielle lounging by the pool.

"I guess this is a 'clothing-optional' pool, huh?" commented Willow as she tried hard not to stare.

Ginny had no such reservations.

"Mother of Merlin," she exclaimed, "look at the two of them! They look just alike, but different…"

"Ginny!" greeted Gabrielle, "I'm so glad you're here, and I finally get to meet Willow. Hello Willow, I am Gabrielle, Buffy, this is my friend Ginny. Ginny, Buffy; I believe that concludes the formalities. Are you two going swimming?"

Ginny's response was to begin shucking her clothing, Willow, to her credit, did not ask about bathing suits but simply followed custom. In a moment two pairs of petite nude women were standing facing each other.

"This is like some weird mirror," Buffy said. "You two are darn near twins."

"So are you and Gabby," stated Ginny.

"Un moment," Gabrielle said as she reached for her wand. She used it to conjure a large mirror, and the four lined up in front of it.

"Damn," whispered Ginny and Buffy. There was not an inch difference in the height of them all, nor more than a kilo or so in weight. Ginny and Buffy looked a bit fitter, but you had to really concentrate to see it. Concentrating on the sight, however, was not a chore.

"If I do say so myself," murmured Ginny in honest awe, "there has never before been such a collection of hot little naked women in the same spot. I'm horny." She turned to Willow and drew her into a kiss that had both sets of toes curling.

"Actually that's not a bad idea at all," Buffy finally managed to say as she reached for Gabrielle.

It was quite something, the four of them on the deck of that pool. Two couples very much in love, who felt no qualms about showing their love in front of one another. When a glance could be spared, the scene in the mirror was absolutely breathtaking, so alike they all were in their love and their need, and the passion blazed higher because of it.

Faintly to their ears came the sound of a werewolf howling in the sky.

The elves outdid themselves with the dinner, and it was a very satisfied group that assembled in the family room after.

"Magnificent," sighed Giles as he sank onto a couch, "I couldn't budge if I were on fire."

"Not me," said Ginny,"I feel like dancing."

"That does sound like fun," Buffy agreed.

"There is a decent muggle club in town," Gabrielle volunteered, "who's going?"

"Count me out," said Giles with a wave of his hand.

"I shall stay as well," Apolline said as she turned her face to Giles, "and see if I can persuade Rupert to play for me when he has recovered from dinner." Giles blushed.

"Time to go!" announced Faith.

The other young women concurred, and the group Apparated to the outskirts of the nearby town.

"Do you suppose Rupert and Mere are going to…" began Gabrielle.

"Zat is their business," Fleur said firmly.

The arrival of the group caused a bit of a stir in the club. Everyone there had seen pretty women before, but they were sort of a singular bunch. An accommodating server pushed two tables together for them, and they seated themselves and ordered drinks.

They had scarcely received their order when a large shadow fell on the table.

"Evenin' ladies," greeted a very large and muscular man. "I couldn't help but notice that you hens are shy a rooster. Big Willie Walker, at your service, it would be downright criminal of me to leave you in such a state."

"Do you really think," Hermione said coolly, "that if we wished for male companionship that we would have trouble finding it?"

"You never know darlin', some men might be a bit intimidated by the sight of seven so lovely ladies."

"But you don't have that problem, do you Big Willie?" Buffy asked.

"Nope, I'm from Texas, and a Texas man ain't scared of nothin'. There's plenty of ol' Willie to go around, never you worry about that."

"Mr. Walker, if we asked you nicely to leave us in peace, would you be offended?" Willow asked him.

"Not atall, but you see, I think it's my sacred duty to show you ladies a good time," replied Willie.

"All of us?" asked Faith archly.

"Be my pleasure, one at the time, or two or three if you swing that way," said Willie with a leer.

Hermione glanced hastily at Ginny, and she saw that the fine hairs on her arms were standing on end, and that her eyes had gone lifeless and flat. She had seen that look before, and knew full well what it meant. She urgently whispered to Willow, who seized Ginny's face in her hands and kissed her. Big Willie's eyes bulged.

"I'll tell you what, Big," said Faith as she got to her feet, "some of us here are strictly carpet-lickers, you see? Now me, I'm a switch-hitter and so is Buffy over there. Why don't I take you for a little test drive on the dance floor and see if you have what it takes?"

Faith led Willie onto the dance floor, just in time for a rare slow number. Willie lost no time in pulling her against him. Surprisingly, he wasn't a bad dancer.

"How come they call you Big Willie?" asked Faith.

"Play your cards right and you'll find out," smirked Willie.

_"What a pig,"_ thought Faith.

"You witches might want to get a few spells ready," Buffy cautioned. She was well aware of what Faith thought was funny.

"Well let's see about that then," purred Faith as her right hand slid between them. Big Willie could hardly believe his luck; this chick was really hot for him!

"You just help yourself darlin', see how big Willie can ge-" Willie's eyes went round and sweat started out on his face.

"What ees Faith doing?" asked Fleur anxiously.

"She's not really flirting with that guy is she?" asked Ginny in dismay.

"Uh-uh," replied a grinning Buffy, "look at his feet." They all did, and saw that his toes were barely grazing the floor.

"Oh," said Ginny, as her own grin appeared.

"Here's what you're gonna do, Willie," said Faith in a conversational tone. "You're gonna go back to your table and leave us the fuck alone, and the next time a woman says that she's not interested you're gonna say 'yes Ma'am' and leave her the hell alone. Isn't that right?"

Big Willie couldn't speak, hoisted aloft by his privates as he was, but he nodded vigorously, and when Faith set him down and let him go he fled the club surprisingly quickly for such a big fellow. Faith strolled back to her friends and lovers.

"Who wants to dance?" asked Faith.


	9. Chapter 9

Summary: Stuff happens

Warnings:Graphic violence, language, character death, implied Het.

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling and Joss Wheedon.

Lyrics from "Imagine", by John Lennon

Thanks to those reading, I appreciate it.

Chapter 9

"Absolute Faith"

_"You may say that I'm a dreamer. But I'm not the only one - I hope someday you'll join us - And the world will live as one…"_

The last notes of the song faded into the night. Apolline rose from her chair, her eyes swimming, and extended her hand.

"Come to bed, Rupert," she said huskily.

"Where do you suppose the older generation is?" asked Faith as the seven young women entered the family room.

"Gone to bed I expect," answered Hermione, "it is pretty late. Or early."

"An excellent idea, I zink," Fleur volunteered, stifling a yawn.

"D'accord," Gabrielle agreed, "let us follow their example, Buffy my love."

"Night guys," Buffy said as the couple left the room.

"We should turn in as well," Ginny said through a yawn, and she took Willow's hand and headed for the stairs.

"See you in the morning, or later today I guess," Willow said by way of parting.

"Ginny seems so happy," Hermione sighed.

"All of them do, we did good," Faith judged.

"Indeed, Gabrielle is quite in love with Buffy," confirmed Fleur. "They make a striking couple."

"I so hope that Ginny will let herself love Willow, I know that she wants to, and you can see plainly how much Willow cares for her. I was beginning to think that Ginny would never heal, never be whole," Hermione said wistfully.

"We shall see," Fleur said, "she completely ignored all of those girls hitting on her at zee club. Per'aps she is ready to forgive herself."

"That can be tough to do. I know," Faith added. "Maybe Willow loving her will let her believe she's worth loving. Of course, it took two of you to convince me."

"And you had best not forget it," Hermione told Faith in her best stern tones.

"Yes'm. Lead the way Fleur, even I'm sleepy now."

The three went to their room and snuggled in for what was left of the night. On the hilltop where Willow had professed her love to Ginny, a shadowy figure watched the last lights wink out in the house.

"It's time," said the figure into a small mirror, "at long last, it's time."

Lucius Malfoy had spent the years since the fall of Voldemort gnawing his resentments like an old bone. The loss of prestige hurt him far more than the death of his Master; Voldemort had been a means to an end for him, nothing more. To further add to his pain, his wife and son had grown distant from him, embracing the change in the magical world and walking out into the light, leaving him to brood alone in the echoing halls of Malfoy Manor.

"No longer," he whispered, "tonight I will drink deeply from the cup of vengeance."

He had planned this long, recruiting allies uniquely suited to the task and helping them master their abilities. He had used all of his considerable skills in furthering his cause, and as he looked down at the sphere he held in his hand he smiled. It was not a pretty smile, although it did reach his eyes.

The sphere was a most powerful magical artifact, crafted by Voldemort himself against the last need. When invoked, the spells within would prevent the use of magic within its range of influence, a spherical zone nearly a kilometer in diameter. More than enough to contain those within the house below him. It would also prevent any human or elf from leaving the zone for a time. More than enough time for his purposes. He knew well the power that Hermione Granger had, and the Weasley bitch. That muggle-loving redheaded blood traitor had mown down Death-eaters like a scythe, obliging Bella herself to step in. Not this time, this time she was only a petite woman, and her wand would be useless, as would Granger's. Even the House-elves would be disabled; it was this last bit that had taken the most work, for Voldemort had considered House-elves beneath his notice. Lucius Malfoy knew from bitter experience just how much trouble those creatures could cause.

He would, of course, rather wreak his vengeance upon the person of Harry Potter, but as head of the Auror Office, an insanely popular head, no less, he was too well protected. The Weasley boy never left his side, and the wards on his home and office, not to mention the legion of Aurors who kept a quiet and unofficial eye on him, rendered it simply too much of a risk. Besides, he thought, smiling again, it would hurt Potter much worse to slaughter his friends.

And slaughter is what he had planned, for the allies he had recruited to his cause were all Werewolves, led by Fenrir Greyback. Six of the most vicious creatures he had ever encountered, and they too nursed a festering hatred over their losses. Malfoy had at last come up with a potion that allowed them to tap into the full power of the wolf within them even when they were in human form.

As for himself, he had secured a Muggle weapon used by the only group of Muggles he had ever grudgingly admired. He gazed fondly at the worn steel of the Luger pistol, and imagined Hermione Granger's face as he stood over her battered carcass and pulled the trigger. His allies had strict instructions not to kill Granger and Weasley, the rest, however, were fair game.

Greyback and his pack arrived, bringing with them a strong musky odor betraying their excitement. Lucius suppressed a grimace.

"Tonight, my friends, we feast!" he said passionately, and he led the way down the hill.

It was a careful plan, elegant in its directness and thoroughness, and as his fury mounted Lucius Malfoy knew the sweetness of a long-awaited dream coming to fruition.

There were only two things he had missed.

He did not know as much about Veela as he should have, and he had not the least idea what a Slayer was.

As soon as he felt the prickle of the wards surrounding the house, Malfoy invoked the sphere, and noted with satisfaction that the wards dispelled instantly and without fuss. Mad he had undoubtedly been, but Voldemort had been a wizard with few peers. With the wards down they were able to easily slip into the house.

"Stick to the plan, one to each occupied bedroom, one to the servants' quarters, and one here with me. Remember that Granger and Weasley are not to be killed, but there's no need for them to be precisely unharmed. Do you understand, Greyback?" said Malfoy quietly, his voice trembling with emotion.

"Aye, I'll not kill her, but I will taste her cunt this night," he hissed.

"You are welcome to it, but her life is mine, as is the Weasley whelp's," Lucius told him. Lucius Malfoy was well aware of Greyback's obsession with Hermione. Indeed, it had been that that had allowed him to persuade Greyback to his cause.

"Go then, and bring them to me here," commanded Malfoy. "_At last,"_, he thought, _"at last."_ He intended to make this place his own, and once it was in his hands, others would flock to him, he was sure. Narcissa and Draco would return to him, and things would be as they were, the Malfoy name would again be feared and respected. Nothing stood in his way but powerless witches, elves, and a few muggles.

Longtooth entered the door to the servant's quarters and locked it behind him. He would simply guard the door, he had nothing in particular against House-elves, his job was just to keep them from interfering with the night's work. Although an Elf or two would go down just fine, should the need arise. He set his back to the door and waited.

Greyback and his cronies ascended the stairs and moved silently along the long hall in the residence wing. He sniffed carefully at each door, and at last detected the scent that haunted his dreams. "This room is mine," he hissed. "You know the other occupied rooms. One to each, according to plan, remember, do-not-kill the Weasley bitch. Understood?" The pack nodded. "Take positions and enter when I do. Go!" Greyback waited as the others took up stations outside of their chosen rooms. He breathed deeply of the scent of his prey. Hermione Granger had haunted his dreams for years, the scent of her memory never failing to arouse him. So close he had been, so close. Tonight he would feast.

Greyback looked up and down the hall and saw that the others were in position. He laid his hand to the doorknob and slowly turned it. Unlocked. The fools. He waved his hand and silently stepped into the room.

Two of his fellows also found their doors unlocked. Apolline's room was locked however, she was a parent after all, and knew to be discreet. The werewolf shrugged and kicked the door down.

The loud crash echoed down the hall, waking the sleepers according to their nature and condition. Giles was the first to rouse, his years of experience and training coming to the fore. He sprang from the bed, turned on a light, and faced the intruder, a brutish man of ragged appearance and pungent odor.

"You might knock, old man. This is just a tad rude," he said.

"Rupert," Apolline said, "he is Loup-Garou."

"Werewolf? Jolly good it's not the full moon then."

"That will make no difference, Muggle," snarled the Werewolf. "I will kill you, and then fuck your woman, and then feed on you both." His eyes fell hungrily on Apolline, who was standing nude in the corner of the room. The beast had never seen a woman to compare with her, and had he but had

more wit; it might have given him pause. Too bad for him, he had not the wit.

Giles' mind was rapidly searching all he knew of Werewolves. "You don't by chance have a silver sword in your bedroom, Apolline?" he asked hopefully.

"Alas, no," she answered, "all of my silver swords are being polished just now." Her calm demeanor puzzled the Werewolf, but he had no time for doubts, and sprang at the male, whom he deemed the greater threat. He wasn't all that far wrong, really.

Rupert Giles was no longer a young man, but he was strong and fit, and his knowledge of combat was deep. He greeted the Werewolf's lunge with a skillful response, and in a trice had him pinned to the floor in an exquisitely painful hold. However, Giles was but a man, and he could not match the strength of the beast he held.

"Run, Apolline! I can't hold him long!" he cried.

"You will not need to, Rupert darling," she replied serenely.

Here the first chink in Malfoy's meticulous plan appeared. He had assumed that the Veela transformation was magical, and thus would be inhibited by the sphere. In fact it was not magic, but part and parcel of the Veela soul.

Fleur was part-Veela, as were most Veela in the world. The transformation she had undergone to save Faith was beyond her in the literal world. However – Apolline Delacour was as pure-blooded a Veela as was left on the earth. She was a Queen from a line of Queens, and she stepped into her other skin as easily as one would don an old pair of slippers.

"Come and fuck me then, beast," she hissed.

Buffy was tired. Beyond tired. She was in love, and she was happy, and she was sated by the tender attentions of her beautiful lover. All of which is to say that she was a touch slow to wake. It was the briefest of delays, but enough to allow the Werewolf to reach the side of the bed as she rose, and she felt a hot streak across her belly.

"A shame to damage her," said the Werewolf contritely, "but I have rather a fancy for you," he said to Gabrielle. "At least for starters." Gabrielle had her wand by then, and the light from the bath gave enough illumination for her to see the beast standing by her bed holding a dripping knife.

"Incendio!" she cried, as she slashed her wand viciously. She was indeed a champion dueler, and

she had no inclination to mercy here. Unfortunately, this part of Malfoy's plan worked to perfection. There was not so much as a spark. She wasted no time in wonder, however, but seized an epee from the wall and confronted the knife-wielding intruder. From the corner of her eye she saw a spreading red stain on Buffy's gown. She resolutely suppressed her horror.

"Have at you then, sweetmeat!" cried the werewolf as he lunged across the bed.

Ginny was tired. She had lain awake for a time staring at the sleeping woman beside her, trying to sort out the feelings that raged within her breast. She knew beyond doubt that she loved Willow. All of the evidence, including Willow's own words, indicated that Willow loved her. She just could not bring herself to trust her feelings, to take that next step and open her heart. The faint light from the hall roused her just in time to see something descending towards her head, and her reflexes allowed her to move a little. Not quite enough as it turned out, and she slid unconscious to the floor.

Willow had been deeply asleep. She was with Ginny, and she desired to be no place else on earth. She had fallen asleep with Ginny's arm across her, with Ginny's scent in her nose and heart, and with Tara smiling joyfully over them both in her dreams. It was Ginny's absence that woke her, and in the faint light she leapt from the bed and backed against the wall.

"My, my," cooed the Werewolf, "such a lovely thing you are, all naked there. I shall be glad indeed to dally with you while your lover sleeps a bit. Don't worry though, there is something _special _planned for her. Her and the Granger bitch."

It was just as well that Willow's first thought was not of her wand, it would have been useless in any case. Faced with such a threat to her love, and a woman she admired deeply, Willow instinctively reached for a source of power familiar to her. She called upon Hecate, and Hecate answered.

It was not the storm it might have been. The sphere had influence, but this was the power of a Goddess, and Hecate had grown fond of Willow over the years, and she bent all of her will and power on the threat to her child.

The werewolf resolutely bore in. This morsel was too delicious not to persevere.

Faith was tired. Faith, however, was accustomed to being tired, and it didn't slow her down much. The sound of the crash was still echoing in the hall when she switched on the room lights. An instant later she heard Hermione scream.

Hermione had awakened to a nightmare made flesh. There before her stood Fenrir Greyback, the beast that haunted her dreams second only to Bellatrix Lestrange. Bella, however, was dead. She desperately pulled her wand from beneath her pillow; she had never forsaken the habit of keeping it near her at night. "Avada Kedavra!" she cried. Nothing happened other than Faith's eyes going round. Faith had been told of that curse, and she knew that if Hermione used it thus that there was ample reason for concern.

"'Mione?" she queried.

"He's a Werewolf!" shrieked Hermione. "It's Fenrir Greyback!"

Hermione retreated, trembling, to a corner. She was nowhere near a coward, but her wand had failed, and Fenrir Greyback had haunted her for years. All of the pain and degradation she had suffered at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange came rushing back, the feel of Greyback's rough hands on her skin, the foul smell of his breath.

"Your friends shall be an appetizer, Hermione dear," rasped Greyback, "and your cunt the main course. Your life, I regret to say, belongs to Lucius Malfoy." Fleur shielded Hermione with her body. Unlike her mother, she could not transform completely in this world. But her fingers extended into talons, and her eyes went golden.

"Fenrir, huh?" said Faith casually. "Kickass name for a Werewolf. I knew a Werewolf once, but he wasn't an asshole like you, Fenrir. I'm Faith, by the way."

"And is Faith a – how was that now? A 'kickass name' for anything?" Greyback asked.

"Well I hate to brag," replied Faith, "but it's an okay name for a Slayer."

A trickle of ice ran down Greyback's spine at that. He couldn't quite recall, but nibbling at the edge of his memory were tales half-heard from Muggle-born Werewolves. Tales of a nightmare's nightmare. Something about a – 'Slayer'.

No matter, he told himself. He had free reign with two out of three of the tastiest morsels he had ever seen, although the casual grin on the face of the brunette puzzled him some.

"What is you doing in my Mistress's house?" asked the Elf.

"Never you mind. Go back to bed," commanded the Werewolf, "you'll have a new master come morning, and I miss my guess if you don't want to be rested for the likes o' him."

The Elf raised a hand and grimaced, but no magic was forthcoming. The piercing whistle, however, was unimpeded. The hall filled with Elves in an instant.

"This creature threatens the Mistress," said the first Elf.

"Then it dies," said another, and the Elves surged forward.

Without their magic they were but small creatures, but their love for their Mistress buoyed them up, and a fell green light kindled in their large round eyes, and they fell upon the Werewolf like a wave. Three of them perished before one of them rose from the pile with a gory sterling pie-server held aloft.

"Forward!" she cried.

Giles strained to hold the Werewolf, but his technique was overcome by brute strength. The Werewolf opened his jaws, reaching for Giles' throat, and then a thundering blow dashed him against the thick walls of the Delacour household.

"Filth!" spat Apolline. "You dare defile my home, and threaten the man I love? The pit awaits you, you half-breed hellspawn!" Dark blood rained thick in the room, and Giles watched entranced as the woman he loved defended him.

"Bloody marvelous!" he breathed avidly.

Gabrielle easily parried the Werewolf's first clumsy thrust, and neatly transfixed him with her blade.

"A touch, I do confess it!" gasped the beast. "And had the blade been silver, your troubles with me were ended," he said as he grasped her hand and pulled her close, his mouth opening to reveal ragged teeth eager to close on the flesh of her face.

There was a metallic, singing, hiss in the air, and the beast's head leaped from his neck.

Buffy stood, blood soaking her gown to her feet. In her hands she held the weapon that was hers by right, and scarlet glistened on the keen edge.

"Is this silver, this thing?" asked an awestruck Gabrielle.

"I dunno," replied Buffy, "but it's mine, and beheading generally works just fine." She slumped to the floor, and Gabrielle screamed.

Willow strained, her eyes gone black and the dark veins streaking her fair face. The snarl on her visage altered her from a sweet-faced beauty to a fiend from the pit, and the Werewolf sweat profusely as he tried to bore in on her.

Hecate was angry as she had seldom been, she did not understand this bond on her power, and she liked it even less. She summoned long untapped depths of strength, and reached to close her fingers on the throat of the foe before her.

A sickening crunch echoed through the room, and the Werewolf collapsed. Ginny appeared behind him, blood streaking her face and a Quidditch bat in her hand.

"Fucking Werewolf," she said. "You got anything silver I can cut his throat with?"

"No," answered Willow, "but this will do for a start." She reached into her bag and pulled out a cluster of Wolfsbane, and crammed it into the Werewolf's mouth.

"You seem to know a lot about Werewolves," said Ginny speculatively.

"I used to date one," explained Willow. "We need to check on the others."

Greyback crashed to the floor yet again, and still the insolent bitch grinned at him. He lurched to his feet and snarled, extending his remaining good arm, reaching desperately for her throat. A brittle snap echoed through the room, and a crushing blow sent him to the floor once more. Faith smiled down at him.

"You don't threaten Hermione or Fleur, asshole," she said easily.

Greyback was beaten. He was broken, and he knew it. This bitch was toying with him, he was hopelessly overmatched. It was done, over. A peace filled him as he embraced the idea. This was a Slayer, the Ancient Enemy of his race, and to die before such a one was more honor than disgrace. He rolled onto his back and offered his throat.

"Bless me, Slayer," he rasped.

" 'Ere Faith," said Fleur, "zis is silver," and she tossed her a letter opener from the desk

"So long, motherfucker," said Faith in benediction.

We need to check on everyone else," Faith snapped as she strode naked from the room with the bloody instrument in her hand.

"The children!" hissed Apolline as she rose, covered in blood.

"I have never in my life beheld such a magnificent sight," said Giles plainly. In that moment, Apolline Delacour gave her heart utterly to Rupert Giles. "The children!" he echoed as he stormed from the room.

She let him lead, as a testament to his valor. She knew, and she knew that he knew, that these foes were beyond him. Yet he went forth eagerly, his love for the women in this house driving him onward. He was, in his own words, magnificent.

"Girls!" cried Giles as he stepped into the hall.

"Okay here, G-man," said Faith as she stepped nonchalantly into the hall, naked, blood-spattered, and holding the silver letter opener in her hand.

"One down but not dead," reported Ginny as she appeared in the hall with blood dripping down her face. "Anybody got something silver?"

Faith tossed her the letter opener. Ginny looked at it and raised her eyebrows.

"Push hard," advised Faith. Ginny grinned and faded back into the room.

"Buffy is badly hurt!" cried Gabrielle desperately. Faith was first into the room.

" 'Sup, B?" she asked quietly, cradling the blond head in her hands.

"I fucked up. Bit slow," explained Buffy.

Faith examined the wound carefully. "Not as bad as what you gave me, B. You'll be fine. That's one very dead Werewolf over there."

"Motherfucker wanted to kill Gabby, uh-uh," gasped Buffy.

"Here she is B, and I have to tell you, for all the goodness I have at home, I'm a tad jealous. She's just so damn delicious-looking."

"Mine," hissed Buffy, her eyes closing in pain. She reached towards the scythe. "Take this, bat cleanup. If I don't make it, Faith, you're THE Slayer. Okay?"

"Never in my lifetime, B. But I'll take care of your light work for you this time."

Buffy smiled and closed her eyes.

"Giles," whispered Faith urgently, "it's bad. Really bad. She could die."

"I'll go for Hermione," said Ginny as she rushed from the room.

Hermione was still a wreck, and Fleur was still standing guard.

"Fleur," said Ginny desperately, "Buffy is badly hurt, she needs Hermione. Now."

" 'Ermione is not fit, leave her alone," commanded Fleur, bristling.

"Fleur," began Ginny.

"Non!" insisted Fleur.

"Oui, ma petite," hissed Apolline as she strode into the room.

Fleur was taken aback; she had seldom seen her Mother in this guise. As such, she was not merely her Mother, but her Queen. Fleur kneeled obediently.

"Rise, Hermione," commanded Apolline, and such was her power that Hermione mastered her fears, and stood before Apolline. "Buffy is gravely injured," she told her, "please help her, she holds my child's heart in her hands."

That appeal roused Hermione, and sparing a brief glance to the corpse of her nightmares, she gathered her bag and headed down the hall.

"Were she an ordinary human, she would already be dead," declared Hermione as she examined Buffy. "But as a Slayer, she will recover nicely once she has these blood-replenishing potions." Hermione deftly assisted the semi-conscious Buffy to swallow the potions.

"Will this whatever the fuck it is that dampens magic affect them?" asked Ginny.

"I don't think so," answered Hermione, "the magic goes into potions with the brewing. They should be fine." And indeed, Buffy's breathing grew easier, and color slowly returned to her face. "She'll be fine," Hermione announced. "A few days rest and she'll be good as new. Slayers are a tough breed."

"Speaking of that, does anybody know what the fuck this was all about?" queried Faith.

"Greyback mentioned Lucius Malfoy," offered Fleur.

"That MOTHERFUCKER!" cried Ginny, and she pelted down the hallway.

Willow was first to follow, soon passed by Faith, but there was no catching Ginny. Except for Faith, that is. She skidded to a halt in the foyer; before her were an obvious Werewolf, and a pale man with white hair.

"Kill her!" screamed Lucius Malfoy. The Werewolf leaped, the scythe sang, and the Werewolf's shoulders were relieved of the burden of his head.

"Who the fuck are you, Whitey?" asked Faith.

Malfoy was dumbstruck. Before him was the most magnificent woman he had ever seen, mother-naked, covered in blood, and holding some sort of axe. She stood over the decapitated body of his personal guard, and all he felt was a long-absent stirring in his pants.

"I am Lucius Malfoy, Muggle," he finally managed, in a pale simulation of his former sneering disdain.

"I've heard of you," admitted Faith. "Sad to say, it was nothing good."

"Pity, that," acknowledged Lucius. "As you're about to die, I hate for you to go out on a low note." Malfoy raised the Luger and aimed between Faith's breasts.

"Malfoy you fucking bastard!" shrieked Ginny as she lunged into the room.

Lucius did not hesitate; he swung the gun towards Ginny and fired. Willow crashed into view and dove in front of Ginny; the bullet took her high in the chest, passed through, and narrowly missed Ginny's head.

The echoes of the shot had not faded before the weapon Faith had thrown severed Malfoy's hand and sent the gun spinning across the floor. Faith retrieved the scythe and stood over the form of Lucius Malfoy.

"Absolutely delicious," said Malfoy as he gazed up between Faith's spread legs, "for a Muggle."

"Do not kill him!" commanded Apolline as she strode into the foyer. Such was her majesty that Faith stopped her stroke shy of the proffered neck.

"We would be pleased to kill him, Mistress Apolline," said the blood-spattered Elf brandishing the silver pie-server as she and her fellows entered the room. "Lucius Malfoy deserves death."

"Indeed he does," agreed Apolline, "but we must let the law pass judgment on him."

The Elf looked doubtful, and Fleur spoke up, "It weel piss him off, Cornflower," assured Fleur, and the Elf subsided.

His last ploy had failed. There would be no merciful oblivion for Lucius Malfoy.

"Willow!" cried Ginny.

Hermione was hastily summoned, but with magic banned for a time, she could do no more than stop the bleeding.

"I have no more blood-replenishing potions," said Hermione grimly, "and she has lost a LOT of blood. Without it I don't think she will survive. I've stopped the bleeding, but we can't Apparate out of here until this spell disperses, and I don't know when that will be. She may well die before then."

"Merlin, I hope so," said Malfoy.

"Is there nothing else that will work?" asked Giles anxiously.

"A transfusion, I have the equipment, I carry it just in case. But there is no way to type blood here, we could kill her by guessing," answered Hermione grimly.

"Take mine!" cried Ginny, "Take it all! I don't care, save Willow!"

"I'm sorry, Gin. One thing I do know is that "pure blood" isn't strictly a myth. Your blood would kill her."

"Mine wouldn't," said Faith.

"She's right, Hermione," said Giles, "Willow and Faith are compatible. We crossmatch all of the Slayers and their friends as a matter of course."

"She'll need a lot," cautioned Hermione.

"Dig in, sweetness," said Faith, "blood and I go way back. We only have one Willow."

"In truth," said Giles, "Faith can sustain much more of a loss than the average human. Or the average Slayer, for that matter. She is astonishingly resilient. And Slayer blood is a bit magical in its own right."

"Thanks, G. Now what do we do about this handless asshole over here? Was that your wanking hand, Lucius? Cause I'd hate to think of you all alone in prison like that."

"Him, we leave to Harry," said Ginny grimly. "As much as I long to kill the bastard."

"You can't kill him Ginny," gasped Willow, opening her eyes. "Please don't take that on yourself."

"Okay love," whispered Ginny, "I won't." Willow brightened perceptibly at Ginny's words.

"You love me?" questioned the stricken witch.

"Yeah, I do believe I do," answered Ginny as she pressed her lips to Willow's brow.

"Move it Gin," ordered Hermione, "I need to save your lady love here."

"Yes you do," said Ginny as she glared at the prostrate figure of Lucius Malfoy. "You hear me Lucius? Yes she does."

"Death will at least release me from your tiresome whinging, blood-traitor," droned Malfoy.

"That will not work, Malfoy," said Apolline, now back in her human form.

"At the least, Apolline," drawled Malfoy, "I have seen you for the monster that you are."

"I must hand it to you Mr. Malfoy," said Giles in honest wonder, "you are beyond doubt the most arrogant son-of-a-bitch I have ever met."

"Thank you, Muggle. Were you more than a stain on the world I would be thrilled."

"Absolutely astonishing," said Giles.

"Don't let him bother you, Rupert darling," said Apolline.

"No no, he's not bothering me at all, he's ifascinating/i! There he lies, hand gone, helpless before us, and still he assumes an air of superiority. It's absolutely mind-boggling."

"It comes, Muggle, from knowing one's place in the world," Malfoy informed him. "Beaten I may be, but I am still head of the Malfoy line."

"I beg to differ," said a familiar voice.

"Draco!" gasped Lucius. "Quickly, stun them; the sphere's influence must be gone!"

"So is yours, Lucius," said Draco coldly.

Lucius Malfoy gazed at his son in dismay.

"Hope you don't mind," said Harry as he and Ron followed Draco into the room. "Draco was with us when the message came, and he simply insisted on coming along."

"Who summoned you?" asked Hermione.

"Begging your pardon, Mistress, but we is sending a falcon to Mr. Potter after we is killing our Werewolf," admitted Cornflower.

"Damn fast bird, that," said Ron, "far cry from poor old Errol. How they hanging, Lucius?" Malfoy was too stunned by Draco's words to reply.

"I spent my youth trying to live up to you," said Draco tiredly, "and my adult life trying to live you down. And now this. You disgrace the name of Malfoy. I have no father." Draco took the gun from his former father's dead hand and pointed it at his face. "A Muggle death for you then, Lucius, it's more than you deserve."

The last thing Lucius Malfoy saw was his son looking at him in disgust, and a small bright flash.

"How can I help?" said Draco simply, and in that moment years of hatred were washed away.

"Good to see you Weasley," said Gwenog as Ginny and Willow entered the locker room. "I see you've brought your latest. She's cute. Come and see me when Gin kicks you to the curb, sweetcheeks."

"Nope, not my latest," said Ginny as she pulled her gear from her locker.

Willow's heart rolled over at the words, but then Ginny turned to Willow and held out a velvet pillow with a simple yet beautiful ring cushioned on it.

"My last," said Ginny softly.


	10. Chapter 10

Title: "Abiding Faith"

Pairing: Buffy/Gabrielle, Willow/Ginny, Faith/Fleur/Hermione, Giles/Apolline, Dawn/Xander - they're all in it, and more besides..

Rating: Call it R, well,NC in one spot

Summary: Tied up with a nice little bow…

Warnings:Little Violence, Little Girlsex, Little implied het. FLUFF! Double FLUFF! FLUFF SQUARED!

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling and Joss Whedon.

A/N: Not the latest chapter - the last. This story covers a considerable period of time, and the exact duration is not indicated.

My thanks to those who have reviewed and read, my connection has been fiercely bad of late, and try as I might to reply it just hasn't worked. You wouldn't believe how long it takes to post an update. * sigh *

Thanks again.

"Revelations of Faith" Chapter 10

"Abiding Faith"

"Thank you for coming, Buffy," said Apolline courteously, "and thank you for your support."

"It makes sense, and he's earned it. Whether I can make him see that or not is another thing, but I'll give it my best shot."

"He will listen to you, Buffy, he admires you very much. He's so proud of you!" Buffy smiled at that.

"He gets a lot of the credit for whatever deserves admiration. He is a father and more to me, and since you're going to be my Mother-in-law some day it seems only natural," Buffy told her.

"Gabrielle loves you so, as do I, daughter of my heart." Buffy embraced the older blonde, and then opened her bag and selected a portkey.

"These things sure beat Apparition, I don't think I'll ever get used to that," she said. Apolline shrugged eloquently, proving that she was French.

"To each her own, portkeys make me dizzy," she confided.

"I'll be in touch, Apolline. Hopefully with good news."

"Do me the honor of calling me Mere, dear girl, please. You may as well grow accustomed to it."

"You got it Mom, see you later!" Buffy activated the portkey and vanished.

"Bonne chance, Buffy," whispered Apolline.

"Got a minute, Giles?" asked Buffy as she entered the library.

"Of course, Buffy, what can I do for you?" he replied.

"You can leave. For good," she said seriously.

Giles felt dizzy, and a bit queasy. "Have – have I offended you in some way? I – I assure you that it was quite unintentional," he stammered.

"Nope. I love you more than ever. But so does Apolline. Go to her. Be with her. She needs you. And you deserve her," Buffy told him firmly.

"But the girls – I have a responsibility to-"

"Yourself. This time for yourself, Giles. Things are running smoothly, we're actually winning. Harry's idea for Hunter/Killer teams of Aurors and Slayers is succeeding beyond our fondest hopes. The bad guys just can't cope with that sort of dual front attack. You remember D'Hoffrein?" Giles nodded. "Faith and Draco killed him this morning. I swear those two alone could clean out any nest I ever saw. Kennedy has the Spanish office running smoothly; the training program for the new Slayers is as near perfect as it can be. Rolling the Slayers into the Auror department gives us resources we've _never_ had. Willow and Hermione have nearly completed the restoration of the archives of the Watcher's Council. I've had feelers from some surviving Watchers about coming on board. It's time for you to lay this down and move on, Giles," she pleaded earnestly.

"Yes, I suppose I've just been deluding myself that you still needed me," sighed Giles. Buffy slapped him, and he gazed at her in shocked disbelief.

"Don't you _ever_ say that to me again, Rupert Giles. I will need you until the day I die for keeps, and I will love you longer than that. But yes, the business of slaying can proceed without your constant attendance. I reserve the right to call on you for advice, however." Buffy paused and gazed evenly at Giles as he rubbed his cheek.

"Yes, you can," Buffy said softly. "Yes, she loves you. Yes, she needs you, the Delacour businesses are vast. She needs someone that she can trust to help her. And I need you to share with me the joys of the coming years, not the labor. Not any more. Marry the lady. Embrace life, Giles."

"How did you become so extraordinarily wise?" he whispered.

"You rub off on a girl after she dies a couple times. Here, Mom gave this to me for you. Beat it, we'll send your stuff." She handed him a heart-shaped locket. "That will take you to her regardless of where she is. You just have to kiss it."

"Buffy I –"

"Later. Go home now Giles. Go home."

Giles tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but he couldn't get it down, and so he embraced Buffy fiercely, and kissed her tenderly, and raised the locket to his lips. Momentarily, he found himself in the family room facing Apolline.

"Well, I'm here," he said simply, and Apolline smiled a sunrise.

"Come to bed, Rupert," she said in joy.

"So, you're telling me Draco was an asshole back in school?" Faith asked.

"Indeed he was," assured Hermione, "a first-class, rat bastard, wannabe Death-eater, elitist, mudblood hating, bigoted, prick."

"I believe you, but he is one stone killer. I swear, the last demon puked when he laid eyes on him, and for a guy, Draco is pretty handsome," Faith responded.

"Oui," agreed Fleur, "I believe he must be part Veela. His muzzer is quite lovely."

"I cannot believe that the two women I love are getting lubed up over Malfoys," sighed Hermione. "The world is inside-out."

"Times change, 'Mione," shrugged Faith. "Anyway, he's a good partner. Luna is batting a thousand pairing up Slayers with Aurors. The teams are flattening Hell all over the Continent. Our mortality rate is zero, the injuries are way down, and the failure rate is in single digits. Evil will always be with us, but for now we've got it looking over its shoulder. God, it feels good to be on top!"

"I am so glad zat you feel that way Faith," purred Fleur, "for I fancy having you sitting on my face for a while, s'il vous plait."

"Anything you want, love," smiled Faith.

"You two go ahead," Hermione told them, "I'll be along soon." Faith and Fleur left hand-in-hand for the bedroom, and Hermione watched them go, having one of those moments when she simply could not believe how much she loved her life with the two of them. She gave them a while, and then softly crept down the hall. The door was ajar, and Hermione stood transfixed as she watched her two lovers. Fleur tenderly undressed Faith, her delicate hands caressing the soft skin covering the corded muscles of the Slayer, her lips brushing Faith's eyelids, her neck, her shoulders, and trailing down the rippling muscles of her stomach.

Fleur backed up a step, and stared hungrily at Faith as she removed her own clothing, and then lay on her back on the bed, reaching for Faith. Faith stepped lightly onto the bed, her feet wide apart as she slowly lowered herself onto Fleur's waiting tongue. Faith stretched out on Fleur's body, rubbing her face down the soft skin of Fleur's stomach, resting her cheek against Fleur's moistening heat as Fleur slowly and firmly worked her tongue into Faith.

Hermione's hand found itself under her shirt, shoving the bra aside and twisting the hardening nipples as she watched them. Faith's back arched, and her mouth opened, and her breathing grew stronger, louder, and deeper, as Fleur eagerly drank her.

Hermione's clothes found themselves on the floor as she entered the room and straddled Fleur's leg, pressing her knee firmly against Fleur's sex as she rubbed herself on the Veela's straining thigh. She ran her fingers into the dark hair of the woman she faced, and as their lips met she cried silent tears of joy for the love they all shared. She felt her breasts rubbing against Faith's, she felt a spreading heat and wetness on her knee, she felt a melting deep inside of her, she felt - she felt.

"No, I bloody well will not accept this shipment of bottles," Giles said resolutely. "They are obviously flawed, and cannot possibly endure the pressures of fermentation. Delacour Champagne, sir, is not soda pop, and I caution you not to again try and foist substandard product on us. Have I made myself clear? Good. I expect a new shipment within the week, I suggest that you turn this lot in for recycling, or fill them with bubble bath. Good day." Giles hung up the phone and heaved a great sigh. "Wanker," he muttered.

But he was happy. He loved helping manage the winery and the other arms of the Delacour businesses. He loved Apolline, he loved her – no, _their_ children and their partners. He loved playing guitar and singing for the woman he loved. He loved his life, in short.

"Rupert," called Apolline, "Antoine thinks that the vines on the south slope may have rust."

"I doubt it darling, but I'm on my way," he replied. Antoine thought everything was rust, but he had a positive gift for knowing when to pick grapes.

On the way to inspect the vines, he stopped by the cellars to turn an especial group of bottles. There were weddings approaching.

Amanda entered Buffy's office without knocking, causing Buffy's eyebrows to rise. iNobody/i entered without knocking. Amanda was wearing the latest in slayer attire, inspired in its styling by Ginny's leather outfits, it was all Dragon hide, boots, pants, and a sleeveless top that rose high on the neck. It was specially cured for flexibility and enchanted to turn most blades, teeth, or claws.

Amanda herself was no longer the awkward, coltish girl from Sunnydale. She was whippet-lean, but moved with the grace of a leopard, and her tall frame absolutely sang with strength. She wore on her belt one of the Goblin-forged swords that had become standard issue for the Slayer member of the Hunter/Killer teams, and she laid her hand on the hilt as she spoke.

"It's time for you to go, Buffy," she commanded.

Buffy vaulted the desk, scooping up her scythe on the way, and in the blink of an eye she swung it in a hard, flat arch straight at the swan-like neck of the woman facing her. There was an answering flash of steel, and the weapons met in a shower of sparks. Buffy smiled.

"You're ready," she said, "and yeah, it's time to go."

"You didn't hold back much, boss," said Amanda.

"And I never will," Buffy replied flatly, "see that you don't either."

"Count on it. Now beat it, and if I see you here in the next 3 months I'll kick your tiny ass."

"Deal," Buffy replied, and she took the portkey she liked best.

"Buffy!" Gabrielle greeted her, "at last, come, there are a _million_ things to do."

"Yes dear," Buffy replied, and she allowed herself to be swept up by the whirlwind that was the woman she loved.

Willow looked with pride at the unbroken string of O's on her NEWTs . She had sped through the syllabus in record time once she had truly grasped the theory of magic.

"Magnifique, Willow," said Madame Maxime, "of course, I expected no less." Olympe had grown uncommonly fond of the petite redhead, the joy she took in learning served as an inspiration to the younger students at Beauxbatons, and there was the fact that Ginny Weasley was a frequent visitor to Beauxbatons since Willow arrived.

"I believe Ginny is waiting for you now though, n'est ce pas? Au'voir, ma petite."

Willow ran through the castle, across the lawn, passed through the gates and Apparated directly to the Holyhead Harpies practice pitch.

"No, no, NO, you clumsy bitches! Do it over, and do it right!"

"Gwenog is a bit nervous," explained Ginny as she kissed Willow in greeting.

"Should we stay to guard the team?" Willow asked.

"Nah, they all know where she's coming from, Ashley will shag her silly in a bit and things will calm down. Ready?"

"Yep, I've already had three owls from Gabby with assignments for us. We're going to be busy this week," Willow promised.

"Count yourself lucky my Mum's tied up with Percy's new baby," Ginny said earnestly, suppressing a shudder. "You drive," she said, taking Willow's arm. They disappeared with a loud crack.

"No need in the three of us hiding, Draco, how 'bout some light?" Draco flicked his wand and the passage ahead of them illuminated. Draco too had opted for the dragon hide outfit, and he also carried the sword as well as his wand. They made a striking and terrifying duo, although the third member of Strike Team Alpha had engendered laughter on their first few missions. Nobody laughed anymore.

The third member of the team was a House-elf. He had appeared in Luna's office at the Ministry one day and said simply, "I wishes to fight." Luna had immediately sent for Draco and Faith and introduced them to the new member of their team, thus forming the first, and so far only, Strike Team attached to the Auror/Slayer office.

His name was Dagger, and he was Dobby's sister's son. He wore what he pleased, and he had his Uncle's taste in clothing. He carried a thin stiletto, a few wooden stakes, and was one of the very few elves to use a wand. The ban on wand use for nonhumans had been lifted several years before, but most House-elves disdained them, preferring to practice their magic as they always had. Dagger, however, had embraced it and mastered it, and his magic combined with a skilled wizard such as Draco added a dimension that had allowed Team Alpha to penetrate the dark places beneath the earth and confront ancient evils on their own ground.

He was also peerless in edged weapon combat, his speed and unmatched ferocity had most foes dead before they knew that battle had been joined. Thus it was that Faith had decided to let the prey know they were coming.

The team moved with swift caution, and soon the passage opened into a large cavern, Draco and Dagger cast illumination spells and the combined effect brought a dawn to a place that had only known the poor light of fires. There was a huge shape approaching from the right.

"Troll at 3 o'clock Draco!" cried Faith as she rapidly assessed the situation.

"Avada Kedavra!" replied Draco, and the troll went down, falling atop his massive hammer.

"I has the Wyvern," Dagger informed them, and his spell petrified the beast flame and all.

"Undead straight ahead," called Faith as she swung her sword, Dagger joined her and staked a pair that never saw him. Three fled and were not pursued.

"What's that then?" asked Draco as he rejoined them after dispatching a Hydra.

"That" was huge and cloaked in shadow.

"Merlin's ball-sack," breathed Dagger, "I thinks it's a _Balrog!_

"A what?" asked Faith.

"Read a book now and again Faith," Draco advised, "but Balrogs are fictional creatures."

"Said the Wizard to the Elf," Dagger drawled.

The creature unfolded, and fire flared in the cavern as it swept out a huge sword.

"Run!" came a rasping voice from behind the Balrog, for Balrog it did seem to be. Something familiar in the voice tugged at Faith's mind for an instant, but she pushed the thought aside.

"Kill it boys," she snapped.

Instantly a small ball of energy sped from the wands of both Draco and Dagger, one gold, one silver. The balls collided within the body of the creature, and something quite interesting happened. The two different types of magical energy simply could not exist in contact with each other, and so when they met, they ceased to exist. So did whatever was in the immediate vicinity.

It was terribly dangerous stuff, and thus far only Draco and Dagger had mastered it well enough to be permitted its use in the field. Thus was Team Alpha born, and Faith had been placed at its head because of her skill in threat assessment and her utter ruthlessness when called for.

The Balrog had been large enough that a few scraps remained to be collected and researched, as the effect had a sharply defined edge, and Draco and Dagger were skilled enough to control its size with great precision. They had never been able to tell anyone else how they did it, however. Luna simply said that it was their gift, and that seemed as good an answer as any.

"There are two men chained to the wall," Draco said, and the Team approached warily.

"Vamps," Dagger pronounced, and reached for his stakes.

"Belay that, Dagger," commanded Faith. "Those two are wedding presents." She broke the chains with her sword and freed the men.

"Thank God," said one of them fervently as he sagged to the floor of the cavern. "I've been chained up beside this pillock for over a decade."

"You're the pillock, pillock," replied the other.

"Git."

"Nancy."

"Sellout."

"Mama's boy."

"Some things never change," said a grinning Faith as she first helped them to their feet and then hugged each of them.

"Careful, Darlin'" said the smaller of the two, "we're a bit brittle from lack of, well, everythin'"

"Whiner."

"Republican."

"… now _that_ hurt."

The two looked at each other for a moment, and then dissolved into gales of laughter. They embraced and pounded each other on the back. Faith grinned fit to burst.

"You know these two, then," said Draco cautiously, throwing an anxious glance at Dagger, who seemed equally at sea.

"Oooooh yeah," said Faith, "we go way back. You boys are looking at legends, Buffy's gonna croak when she sees them. But that's for a surprise, first we have to get them cleaned up, checked out, and get 'em on Hermione's Vampire nutrient. You'll like that stuff guys, trust me."

"Who killed the big cheese?" asked the taller man.

"The heavy element of my team; fellas, meet Draco and Dagger."

"Pleased to meet you, and thanks for vaporizing old horn head. He was getting a bit tiresome with that ruddy flaming whip of his. Love the hair, by the way, and the outfit," the smaller man said to Draco.

"Poofter."

"Don't start that shit again," said Faith. "Come on, we'll get you out of here and get you fixed up. Then I have got a TON of things to tell you."

"Is Buffy alright?" they chorused.

"Never better, but I have to tell you things have changed. Take us straight to the secure facility at the Min in England, boys. Hang on to your tender bits you two, this is weird the first few times."

The five joined hands and disappeared with an echoing crack.

"Get a move on Minnie," urged Xio, "I can't wait to see the girls!"

"Keep your hair on love, you don't want your wife showing up looking her age now, do you?" replied Minerva.

Minerva McGonagall and Xiomara Hooch had been the first same-sex couple married after the United Ministries had passed the resolution giving such unions official status. In point of fact, they had been instrumental in getting it passed. They had labored for years to get a resolution before the Ministry in Britain without success, and it was only after the formation of the United Ministries that they got the chance to have it up for a vote.

The UM was formed in the spirit of openness and cooperation that arose after the war, when people reached out to each other for healing. It had taken some years to beat out the details, but once established, the UM had moved swiftly. But the road for Minerva and Xiomara had been far from smooth. It was in the third day of discussions on the resolution, after still more hours of listening to people droning on about threats to marriage, threats to this, fears of that, that Minerva had had enough. The speaker had finally resumed her seat, and Minerva walked to the lectern as she had once assumed her place in a classroom or the Great Hall. She had not lost her knack for commanding attention either, and the place quickly fell silent.

"We have heard the same concerns rephrased quite often enough now, I believe. I have one thing to add. Xiomara, come here please." Xio moved quickly to her side, and Minnie took her face in her hands and kissed her full on the lips. There was a bit of shocked muttering, a few giggles, and some scattered applause.

"Now then," said Minerva as she stood holding Xiomara's hand, "how many of you feel queerer than you did thirty seconds ago? Madame Chairwoman, I call the question."

The measure had passed; narrowly, but it had passed.

Now they were seeing the fruits of their labor as the next generation began a life that Minnie and Xiomara had made possible for them.

Ginny and Willow, and Buffy and Gabrielle were indeed to be married, and they had asked Minnie and Xio to stand with them.

It was one of the proudest and most joy-filled moments in their long lives.

"I'm ready, how do I look?" asked Minnie.

"Like the girl I fell in love with an age ago," Xiomara murmured.

Minerva actually blushed.

"Relax, children, everything is ready," Apolline soothed over breakfast. "The guests will begin arriving soon, the grounds are prepared, Cornflower has the catering in hand, and Rupert tells me that his contribution is ready as well."

"But he won't tell you what that is, either, right?" Buffy asked.

"He has asked me to perform a minor conjuration at the appropriate time, so I have a small hint, but no more."

"Faith knows more than she's telling," Ginny said, "I could make her talk."

"Feel free to try, Gin, you could always take me up on a broom," answered a smiling Faith.

"I trust him," Gabrielle volunteered, "and in any case the only thing I really want and expect out of tomorrow is Buffy."

"That I can promise," Buffy said softly as she kissed Gabby on the cheek.

"Whoa, Buff," chided Xander, "save something for the honeymoon."

"I can't believe my sister's getting married! Tara would be so happy!" squealed Dawn. Not everything had changed about Dawn.

Xander had arrived with Dawn the night before. Dawn coming into the full flower of womanhood had swept away the last of his feeble resistance, and Dawn had him at last. One eye and all. Hermione had offered to fit him with a magical one, but he had declined, saying that depth perception was for sissies. Dawn had whispered to Hermione that she'd get back to her on that.

"She _is_ happy," Willow assured Buffy .

Ginny's family was arriving later in the day, Bill and Charlie, George and Angelina with baby Fred, Percy, and Arthur and Molly. Ron would of course arrive with Harry and Draco. Some other special guests would be there for the wedding dinner, Minnie and Xio, who were arriving soon, Madame Maxime, Hagrid, Gwenog Jones, and a few Veela from the Silverwyng flock. And of course Luna, who was officiating in one of her myriad duties as Chair of the United Ministries. She had been swept into office by acclimation because she was the one person that everyone in the world trusted. It had never in her life crossed Luna's mind to lie. The dinner was relatively small, and Giles had insisted that it be formal because tradition required it. The brides had no real objection to this, and a fair part of the week had been devoted to their gowns.

There was to be no rehearsal, the reasoning being that as something always went wrong at a wedding anyway, there was no sense fretting over it. The ceremony itself would be quite simple, from the brides' perspective at least. Giles had been absent for days at the time, and refused to tell anyone what he was about. Faith had been seen talking earnestly to him on more than one occasion. Buffy had a feeling that Gabrielle knew more than she was letting on, but Gabby wasn't talking. She wouldn't even tell her not to worry.

The girls spent the day with close friends and family, and the love and joy surrounding them did indeed calm them. Ginny played with her nephew, and Buffy had a long heart to heart with Dawn that had Xander frankly nervous, but both of the Summers women had smiles on their tear-streaked faces when they emerged from Buffy's room.

Minnie and Xio arrived, and Hagrid had to be cautioned not to crush them in his enthusiasm. Faith was not in evidence several times during the day, and that was wondered at a bit but there were no answers forthcoming. Fleur and Hermione had adopted a firm, "you'll just have to wait" attitude on their partners' whereabouts.

The sun set at last, and the party dispersed to their rooms to dress for dinner.

The brides entered the dining room arm-in-arm by couples, and the assemblage rose to their feet as one.

"Damn!" Faith blurted.

"Well put, Faith," said Giles in wonder.

In contrast to the stark simplicity of their wedding clothes, the four women were dressed in gowns that seemed to have been woven by Fairies out of rainbows. The color was impossible to say, for it was all colors, and yet none at all. It gave the illusion of transparency, but was not. The shoulders were bare, the backs were low, and the whole assemblage was obviously held in place by magic. Their hair was casually elaborate, swept up to bare their necks, but not held rigidly.

The guests, in contrast and by arrangement, were all in black formal wear, and Ginny's eyes bulged as she caught sight of Hagrid in an exquisitely tailored tuxedo that must have required an entire flock of sheep, simply for the material. "Hagrid!" she exclaimed, "you're _gorgeous_!"

Hagrid blushed fiercely and muttered a "Thanks, so're you."

A string quartet began to play, and Ron, Harry, Draco, and George escorted the brides to their places as Cornflower announced dinner. The next day no one could have said precisely what was served, the mood was so enchanting that the flawless meal served as a backdrop to a blissful evening. Giles would stand and describe each wine that was brought to the table, and he was very impressive in his knowledge and his obvious love for the vintages that were now his concern. Apolline gazed fondly at her husband.

After dessert, the party repaired to a pavilion set up just outside to enjoy a relaxing time in the soft evening air. Visible in the moonlight was the enormous pavilion set up for the wedding feast, and on the hilltop, the simple floral arbor prepared for the ceremony itself.

"I'll just go and check the Arbor for wrackspurts," said the head of the United Ministries, and she drifted up the hill. Mighty she was, but remained Luna Lovegood.

"Thank God for Luna," Harry said quietly.

"Hear, hear," said those who knew her.

"Could you play something for us, Rupert?" asked Apolline.

"Of course, darling, what would you like?" he answered.

"Something instrumental, and soft, I think. Girls?"

"Sounds perfect," Gabrielle said for them all. Faith went and retrieved the guitar and sat down to hold her lovers' hands and listen.

After a brief warm-up, Giles softly played a very simple rendition of one of their favorites, and as Greensleeves drifted on the night air, there came from the hilltop a voice so pure and clear that every eye teared, and every throat closed. Giles played on, entranced as they all were with the singing. The single voice was joined by a chorus so high as to be on the edge of hearing, but piercingly sweet, the perfect counterpoint to the soloist. Looking at the hilltop, those gathered saw Luna, her arms spread wide, her hair gleaming in the moonlight. She was surrounded by myriad flickering lights, sprites and fairies come to sing with their Queen as she gave the four women her wedding gift.

Silence fell, and the flickering lights swept Luna into the sky, and in mute wonder those watching went to their beds and dreamed wonderful things.

The day dawned at last, and upon awakening the brides found themselves spirited away to a Spa, courtesy of Harry, Draco, and Ron, where they were outrageously pampered and not allowed to fret.

"Go," Apolline had commanded, "all is in readiness." They went, and as the hour approached Giles finished his secret preparations.

"Tell me, Rupert," wheedled Apolline, batting her eyes outrageously.

"No," he said, "I'm afraid you'll talk me out of it, but it just feels _right_ to me."

"D'accord, my love," she acquiesced.

In tents set aside at the base of the hill for the purpose, the women dressed for the ceremony. Here the nerves caught up with them a bit. They each prepared alone, but there was little to be done. The dresses were identical, plain white cotton shifts. They wore neither jewelry nor makeup, their hair was brushed and left to fall naturally as it would, and they were barefoot.

They had elected to be wed as themselves, the raw and unadorned women that they were. Similarly, they would each ascend the hill unescorted. They loved their friends and family, but in this hour they were alone, soon never to be so again.

At noon a single note from a bell sounded, and they emerged and walked their solitary paths up the hill. There were aisles for them through the assembled guests, and every eye turned to them as they ascended the hill in silence. Before the altar waited their nearest and dearest, Molly Weasley was sobbing quietly. The wedding party was likewise simply attired in casual clothing of an ivory hue, so that the women shone brightly in contrast. Arrayed beyond the arbor were the Slayers and the Aurors in uniform, and over to one side the Harpies, also in full kit, stood clutching their brooms. Unobtrusively to one side stood a small tent, alone. Had they noticed it, the brides would have wondered at it, but their thoughts were fully occupied at the moment.

Willow and Ginny, and Buffy and Gabrielle, joined their hands and stepped into the arbor where Luna awaited them. Luna was arrayed in flowing robes of pale yellow, with a wreath of ivy on her head. At an unspoken command from Luna, small flights of fairies placed circlets of forget-me-nots on the heads of the brides.

"Our little girl is all grown up," said Spike in the shadows of the small tent.

"She's not our little girl anymore, Spike."

"She bloody well _is_! She'll always be our girl," he insisted.

"Yeah, you're right," admitted Angel.

"Bet your arse I'm right. I'm always right," he mumbled, wiping his eyes with his fist. They fidgeted a bit as they watched. Spike looked down at his feet and spoke again. "I love you, you know, after all," he said quietly.

"Yeah, I know," answered Angel gruffly, "I love you too, now shut up and watch the wedding."

"Beloved friends," began Luna, "we are gathered this day to celebrate the union of these dear to us all. Buffy and Gabrielle, Ginny and Willow, extend your hands to be joined." Turning to face each other, the couples placed the palms of their left hands together, and Luna bound them with silken cords.

"What promise do you make to each other?" asked Luna.

No one but Luna could hear the words they spoke to each other within that arbor, this moment was theirs alone.

"Turn and face your friends," Luna said happily. "The rings," she called.

Hermione and Fleur took a step forward to give their gifts to the pairs. Each bride had been instructed to decide in their hearts what they wanted their rings for each other to look like. Hermione had been firm in her insistence that that was all she and Fleur needed from them, and now together they raised their wands and said, "Agape Infinitum."

The binding cords glowed, and flowed over the hands, circling around the ring fingers like gleaming serpents. There was a brief pulse of golden light on each finger, and the cords had resolved into rings that were precisely what each of them had pictured. It was extraordinary magic, even from this pair, and Minerva gave a grave nod of appreciation.

Tears running freely down their faces, the couples turned to their partners and clasped hands.

"Having exchanged vows before these assembled loved ones, and having given and received rings, by the power of your love, and under my authority as Chair of the United Ministries, I declare you wed. Go forth in joy together," she proclaimed in a ringing voice. "You can kiss now," she whispered, once again merely Luna.

A ringing cheer greeted the kiss, and the Harpies rocketed into the sky. All faces looked up as the Harpies flew intricate arabesques through the clear, pure, blue, the thin vaporous trails of the broomsticks weaving together into a vast and intricate wedding knot that shimmered high above. In a rush of wind, Charlie Weasley's contribution arrived, and a glowing Chinese Fireball set the whole thing ablaze.

"A real dragon?" squeaked Willow.

"Yup," confirmed Ginny, "and I think she's my sister-in-law."

The Fireball landed neatly beside Charlie, and the Harpies returned to earth.

"You didn't suck," admitted Gwenog.

Apolline directed the newlyweds to a spot in front of the crowd and instructed them to face the Arbor.

"This must be it," guessed Buffy, "now we'll see what Giles has been up to."

Apolline waved her wand, and the Arbor vanished, in its place stood a gleaming floor, to ether side of which was a small screen, along with a microphone on a stand in front of one of them. The Slayer/Auror teams arranged themselves along the back edge of the floor, Strike Team Alpha two steps ahead and centered. From behind the screen on their right, Giles appeared. He had donned a battered old leather vest, and he carried not the magnificent gift from Segovia, but a beat-up old electric of uncertain parentage. He turned his back to the crowd and spent a moment fiddling with the guitar. A familiar guitar riff began, and those assembled could see him draw in a massive breath after a time, and then to the absolute astonishment and delight of the new couples, he spun around, and Ripper took the long step to the mike accompanied by a thunderous chord from the manky old electric.

_"Shes got LEGS! She knows how to use them."_

Concurrent with this opening, an impossibly long female lower limb shod with a lethal stiletto-heeled strapped shoe emerged from behind the screen on the other side of the floor, and Amanda strutted onstage in an extremely abbreviated version of her uniform, and proceed to astonish everyone who knew her by proving that she could dance as well as she could fight.

"_She never begs, she knows how to choose them."_

The teams began to shimmy.

_"She's holdin' LEG, wonderin' how to feel themmm._

_ Would you get behind them, if you could only find them?_

_ She's my baby, she's my ba-by."_

With an explosive clap of hands the teams began to dance, a backup line the likes of which had never been seen. Dagger slid across the floor, ending up spinning on his head before proceeding to tear off a break that served the world.

_"Yeah it's alright, I said it's alrigh-ite."_

The crowd, led by the brides, was clapping the rhythm; elation ran wild among them, and McGonagall's shoulders could be seen to move beneath her ivory blouse.

_"She got HAIR, down to her fanny._

_ She's kinda jet set, try undo her panties."_

That did it for Minerva, and she reached up and unleashed a cascade of silver-streaked midnight that did indeed reach her fanny, grabbed Xio's hand and dragged her bemused wife to join the line.

_"Every time she's dancin', she knows what to do-oo._

_ Everybody wants to see, if she can use it!_

_ She's so fi-ine, and she's all mi-ine._

_ Girl you got it right! You know you really got it right!"_

Dawn leaped onto the floor to face off with Amanda.

"That incredibly hot slutball is my baby sister…" said Buffy in awe.

"Can she come with us on the honeymoon?" asked an appreciative Gabrielle.

"Damn," said Ginny "Giles has got it goin' on."

"Shall we?" Willow asked her fellow brides.

"Hell yes!" Buffy screamed, and they all rushed the floor.

_"She's got LEGS, she knows how to use the-eeemmm. _

_ She never begs, she knows how to choose them._

_ She's got a dime- all of the time,_

_ Stays out at night – movin through time._

_ Oh I wa-ant her, said I got to have he-er,_

_ The girl is all right! I said that she's all right._

_She's got LEH-EEEGGS!"_

With no pause in his playing, Giles headed down the hill to the reception, followed by the laughing brides and all of their friends, an aging Pied-Piper who could still pound the snot out of an axe.

And so their wedded lives began in unbridled joy and celebration, but the surprises were not done for the day.

The rowdy crowd poured into the cooling shade of the pavilion, where an absolutely astonishing spread was arrayed. Mountains of ice studded with champagne, an army of beaming House-elves eager to show their skills to these women they all loved. On a table stood the wedding cake, a huge confection that looked like a snow-covered mountain.

Faith grabbed Buffy's arm. "B, come with me a minute."

"Now? You were great by the way! Who taught them to dance? Did you have to hit anybody? Can you believe Amanda? I mean DAMN! And Giles! He was awesome! I can't believe you didn't tell me about it, but I'm glad you didn't! It's all just too perfect, isn't it?" Buffy gushed. Gabby laid a soft hand on her wife's shoulder.

"It is indeed perfect, my love," she agreed. "Go with Faith now, though."

"Okay!" Buffy agreed. Faith led her to a remote corner of the tent where stood a small enclosure covered by a curtain. Draco and Dagger stood beside it, and Gabrielle had urged Willow to trail Buffy and Faith.

"Cross your fingers," Gabby said to Ginny, "this could go either way."

"What's behind curtain number one, Monty?" quipped Buffy.

"A little surprise from Strike Team Alpha. Guess," Faith told her.

"Ummmm, a Sluggoth Demon?"

"Nope," grinned Faith.

"Troll?"

"Uh-uh."

"Let's see then, something unusual, I bet… giant preying mantis!"

"Not close. Give up?"

"No. Pony?"

From behind the curtain, someone said in exasperation, "For God's sake, pet. Open the bleedin' curtain! I'm thirsty!"

Buffy swayed on her feet and then tore the curtain from its fastening.

"Hi, Buff," said a smiling Angel, "miss us?"

"Get - out!" screamed Buffy

"We just ruddy got here!" complained Spike, but anything else he had to say was lost as Buffy tackled them both.

"She's gonna stake us!" yelled Spike. "Is she gonna stake us?"

"Are you real?" asked Buffy softly, as her eyes spilled over.

"Real as ever, Buffy," assured Angel.

"What's with the outfits?" asked the stunned Slayer. Angel and Spike were resplendent in black dragonhide.

"Allow me to introduce the two newest members of Strike Team Alpha," said Faith proudly.

"You joined up?" asked Buffy, clearly still stunned.

"Well yeah," said Spike, "after these three rescued us it was the least we could do." He pulled Dagger's ear playfully, "Give the little fella here a few pointers on hand to hand, you know." Dagger rolled his eyes, which, given House-elves eyes, was a bit dizzying to see.

"Ummm, Spike," said Angel, "he uh, he kicked our asses."

"Well, yeah, he did that. But that doesn't mean he didn't learn anything from us!"

Buffy broke down completely. She collapsed on the floor, sobbing. Gabrielle was at her side in an instant.

"Was it something I said?" asked Spike. Angel shrugged, but his considerable brow was furrowed.

"My love," asked Gabrielle as she kissed Buffy softly, "what is wrong?"

"Nothing!" gasped Buffy. "For the first time in my life, NOTHING is wrong!"

Giles quietly approached and stood nearby.

"Did you know about this?" Buffy asked between sobs.

"Him and Gabby both," said Faith anxiously, "I figured Gabby needed to know in case you freaked, and Giles needed to know 'cause he's – Giles." Buffy rose to her feet and stood facing the very uncertain Faith, and then she took the other Slayer's face in her hands and kissed her.

"Thank you," she said earnestly, "for bringing them back."

Faith looked a little stunned, it was quite a kiss. "Welcome B, any time at all."

"I owe you big, Faith."

"Well, I figure Gabby's off limits now cause Fleur's her sister and she's your wife and all, but if you can convince Willow to let me have a go with Ginny I'll call it even," said Faith in relief.

"Hey," protested Willow, "no way! At least not until after the honeymoon, hi Angel, Spike."

"Still into the magics, pet?" asked Spike.

"Bet your ass, Whitey," said Ginny as she joined the group.

"I like her," Spike declared, "she's got spunk."

"Faith," said Ginny, "step over here, I have something to tell you."

Faith followed Ginny to a spot a short distance away.

"Do you remember that night at your apartment when we had the drinking contest?" Ginny asked her.

"Kind of," admitted Faith, "what happened?" Ginny whispered in her ear, and Faith turned crimson, but she was grinning. Ginny kissed her cheek and returned to her wife, who of course knew the whole story.

"What did she tell you?" asked Hermione as she watched Ginny standing with Willow.

"It was about that night I got so drunk," Faith said, still grinning.

"Oh?" queried Hermione, breaking out in a grin of her own. "Pray, what did she tell you?"

"She said I bruised her wrist," crowed Faith.

"Quite true, I assure you," promised Fleur, joining them.

"You were magnificent, honestly," Hermione told her, "we were so proud."

"Damn, I can't believe you guys! Most people would freak if their lover did something like that with someone else," Faith told them.

"We aren't most people," assured Hermione.

"Neither are you," Fleur said, "nor Ginny."

"Do you suppose we'll ever be able to marry?" asked Hermione wistfully.

"We already are," assured Faith, "anybody says different will have to answer to Alpha." Faith pointed to her team.

"D'accord," agreed Fleur, "and with Luna, anyzing is possible. But today is for the 'appy couples, including ma souer, let us join them."

Faith lead her partners over to the rest of Alpha, where Buffy was still talking to Angel and Spike. Harry and Ron joined Draco, and Cornflower paused to rest her head briefly on Dagger's shoulder.

"Wut," said Dagger, "I can't 'ave love too?" Spike smacked the back of his head, and a smiling Dagger elbowed him in the spleen.

"Man love," explained Angel to the three staring women, "it's a comrade-in-arms thing."

"More like butt-buddies if you ask me," whispered Faith.

Amanda appeared on her impossible legs, throwing a long arm around Angel and Spike. "Can I have my men back now, boss?" she asked Buffy politely. "I need to feed them. They get cranky when they're hungry."

"Screw that," Spike said emphatically, "lead me to that fancy bubbly!"

"The three of you?" asked Buffy incredulously.

"Well, yeah," said Angel sheepishly, "Spike's my boy, and you know how we both fancy Slayers…"

"Right you are, Grandad!" said Spike as he steered them towards the Champagne Mountain. "And you've gotta admit," he called over his shoulder, "she's got legs!"

"Damn sure does," confirmed Faith, "how the fuck did I miss those stems?"

Giles was standing just in front of the cake table, where he bellowed, "Excuse me, all, but my lovely wife has informed me that it is time to cut the cake!"

Buffy joined a most relieved Gabrielle. Willow and Ginny were already there. Faith handed the scythe to Buffy, who took up position behind the table.

"Today we have witnessed the joyous union of these four whom we love so much," said Giles happily. Apolline waved her wand, and candles flared on the cake as the tent was plunged into shadow. "Buffy dear, if you please," Giles said as he stepped away from the table.

The scythe sang and glittered in the candlelight, and after a brief time, the singing stopped, and the lights came back up. The cake appeared untouched. Buffy poked it with her finger, and the cake slumped into several piles of perfectly even slices.

The guests stood slack jawed in amaze.

"What," asked Buffy, "you think I'm the Slayer because of my boobs?"

"No one would ever think that, my beloved," assured Gabrielle.

"Thanks- hey!" Buffy said just before her wife's mouth captured hers. Ginny bent Willow over into a deep kiss as well, and the crowd surged towards the table.

The Beauxbatons Coach was waiting to carry the newlyweds to their undisclosed honeymoon spot, but no one was in a hurry to leave. The Elves gleefully circulated platters of succulent treats among the guests, and the new brides managed to corner Giles.

"Giles," said Buffy, her eyes glistening. She was spokeswoman by virtue of her long and intimate association with Giles, and because of the nature of the message. "I can never, ever, repay you for what you have given me. You have nurtured and protected me through Hell itself. You have unfailingly been there for me when I needed you. You have given joy to the mother of my wife, and security to us all. I love you with every beat of my heart, and I always will. I want you to formally adopt me, and I know that my mother would approve. She loved you too, if briefly," Buffy smiled. "My name will be Buffy Summers-Giles, and I will bear it proudly."

"Me too please," asked Faith as she stepped up beside them. "You're the only real father I've ever known. I guess I'll be Faith Giles, no hyphen."

"Au contaire, ma fille," said Apolline, "you shall be Faith Giles-Delacour. Hyphen mandatory."

Faith embraced her new mother, her breath coming in great gasps.

Giles swallowed audibly, and hid his face in his hands. Eventually he composed himself, and stood erect. "Nothing conceivable would give me more joy, dear Buffy and Faith," rasped Giles. Buffy waved a hand, and Luna appeared.

"Just sign here, Mr. Giles," said Luna lightly.

"You can do this right now?" queried Giles.

"I can do anything," assured Luna, Giles signed, and with that stroke of the pen, became legal father to the girls he had loved from the first moment he saw them. "Oh, look," said Luna, "the sun's going down." As if in response to her words, the blazing ball of the sun dropped below the horizon. Perhaps it really did, there was no telling, with Luna.

George stepped up beside Ginny, and pulled her close to his side. "She's marvelous, Willow is," said George intimately. "Little Fred adores her. So does Percy, the great git." Ginny turned to her brother and held him tightly.

"He should be here;" she said sadly, "Fred should be here."

"Aye, that he should," agreed George. "What's that then?" he said, pretending surprise.

The hilltop erupted.

The entire sky was set afire as rocket after rocket streaked aloft, blasting the flaming knot into sparkling fragments that rained slowly down before the astonished guests.

"Who can have done this, do you suppose?" asked a grinning George.

The horizon flared, and an immense heart bloomed in the heavens, fiery trails sped across it, ending in a cacophonous blast as "G+W" and "B+G" bloomed, and eclipsed the glittering stars.

There were Dragons, and singing mice, and Unicorns racing across the sky as George displayed his love for his little sister. There were volcanoes, and dancing Hippos, there were whole Quidditch matches blazing in the heavens, and the crowd stood rooted to the spot. George had told no one at all.

Ginny squeezed him without restraint. George groaned, but hugged her back and stroked her hair.

"Damn," said Ron, "he's good."

"Runs in the family," assured Harry as he took Ron and Draco by their hands, "runs in the family."

"I take back every nasty thing I ever said about any Weasley ever born," swore Draco.

On and on it went. There were panoramas of life at Hogwarts, the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore filled the sky for a time. The whole history of the war blazed across the sky.

"I need to speak with you, Mr. Weasley," said Minerva as she pulled him away from his sister. George felt a chill, but it was merely habit. "Here you are, Mr. Weasley," said Minerva sternly as she handed him a roll of parchment. George unrolled it with great trepidation, anticipating detention in spite of the fact that he had been out of school for more than a decade.

"Mr. George Weasley has attained the score Of "O+" on his NEWT's in Transfiguration, Charms, History of Magic, Defense Against Despair, and Big Brotherhood." Signed: Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress Emeritus, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

George kissed her cheek as his own flamed. "Can you add Fred in please, Professor, it's his work too."

"Delighted," said Minerva, and with a flick of her wand it was done. Added was an "O+" in, "Defying Tyranny."

George bowed low, and proudly showed the scroll to Ginny.

"Have I told you in the last five minutes how much I love you, Minnie?" asked Xio as she snuggled to her side.

"As a matter of fact, no," replied Minerva.

Xio ran her hand beneath Minnie's robes and breathed into her ear, "Come with me than, and I shall…" Minerva seized her hand, and they ran pell-mell into the darkened vineyard.

"I know it's only wishful thinking," Ginny said as she returned the scroll to George, "but I wish Fred were here with us."

"He is you know," said Luna as she stepped to Ginny's side, displaying her remarkable talent for turning up when needed. "The part of him that loves you best will always be with you. Just here." Luna laid her small hand on Ginny's chest, and a warmth blossomed there that stayed with her the rest of her days.

"Funny you should say, sis," George told her as Willow up stepped beside them. George handed Ginny a metal box with a red button on it. "This sets off the last firework that Fred ever made with his own hands, way back before we made it big. He said it was against the day that that git Harry made an honest woman of you, but I believe he would think this the appropriate time." George pulled Willow to his side and kissed the top of her head. "I know I do."

Ginny reached tentatively for the button.

"Smack it, sis!" commanded George. "This is Fred we're dealing with here!"

Ginny smacked it.

With a deafening shriek, an enormous rocket leapt from the hilltop, and exploded high above the rest of the ongoing display. With an explosion that rattled bottles in the deepest cellar, a massive burst of fire blotted out the display from the rest of the fireworks.

High, high, in the sky bloomed the laughing face of Fred Weasley, and beneath his image scrolled the words, "I love you, Gin!" over and over.

Ginny kept her face to the sky as she wept, as Willow held her, as the entire assemblage melted in grief and joy.

Fred's face faded only with the dawn, as the blue Beauxbatons Carriage bore the couples away and into their lives together.

The guests drifted back to their homes, where they would long try and take in the events of the preceding day.

Apolline stepped into her other skin, and enfolded Giles in her vast wings.

"Come to bed, Rupert," she said softly.

"Legs" - by ZZTOP, Billy Gibbons, Dusty Hill, and Frank Beard.

The sequel to this is a BtVS/AtS/HP/? Crossover that is almost purely action/adventure, the relationships from this carry over, and it is about a mission for Faith's team. 27 chapters, but they are much shorter than these. Very little sex, none explicit, some rough language, some violence, and hopefully some humor.


End file.
